


Phantom (Being Rewritten)

by CeriphKri



Series: Phantom-Verse [1]
Category: Banana Bus Squad, Multi-Fandom, Sonic X, Sonic the Hedgehog (Archie Comic), Sonic the Hedgehog (Video Games), Sonic the Hedgehog - All Media Types
Genre: A Real Mishmash of Emotions That's Kinda Hard to Pin Down, Action/Adventure, Almost canon AU, Canonical Character Death, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Dark Comedy, Drama, Dramedy, Expanded Universe, F/M, Gen, Humor, Major Character Injury, Minor Character Death, Multiple Crossovers, Multiverse, Post-Canon, Resurrection?, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2019-05-11
Packaged: 2019-09-17 01:28:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 25,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16965144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CeriphKri/pseuds/CeriphKri
Summary: -Do Not Read Right Now-Five years after the Metarex Incident, Miles is still haunted by Cosmo's death. After an encounter with Dr. Eggman goes horribly wrong (or horribly right?) he is left with a damaged Bokkun- and, with some dumb luck, an idea that could lead to Cosmo's return. All he'll need to test his hypothesis? The seven Chaos Emeralds. It would be simple enough, if all but one of them hadn't been scattered off into the universe after the final battle against Dark Oak.-This work is undergoing rewrites due to the author realizing he's an idiot and bit off more than he could chew for his first (second, technically?) attempt at writing a proper story.Yes, I know I've done this before, with an older version of this story. No, I am not farming for kudos or anything of the sort. I want to write something that I am proud of and feel confident writing and posting, and this ain't it, chief. I will not be creating another 'fic', just rewriting, removing, and fixing chapters from this one to make a more coherent story with a single, less branching plotline that properly follows a single protagonist. So, for your own sanity, do not read. I am sorry for the inconvenience. Thank you for your time.





	1. Anniversary

Five years.

Sixty months.

Forty-three thousand, eight hundred hours.

Two million, six hundred twenty-eight thousand minutes.

One hundred fifty-seven million, six hundred eighty thousand seconds, give or take forty-six, because no one was looking at the clock when he killed her.

Five whole years. That’s how long he had managed to live without her.

Miles lightly slammed his head into the control panel, keeping time with the second hand of the clock. Here he was, in the middle of a dark room, the same way he began: alone with his mournful thoughts, a beautiful rose, and a gun that was large enough to convince people he was compensating for something. Now, though, the gun was quite a bit smaller. Small enough quite literally fit in his right hand, the roboticized limb concealing the glowing purple blaster most of the time. A small part of him found it funny that the Zeti had chosen to take the very hand that he had used to ruin his life, and turn it into a weapon. Another small part of him found it fitting that he lost the hand he used to kill her. A large part of him just wanted to feel something with that hand again.

Something always brought him back to the Blue Typhoon. Once a year, every year, without fail- he had to be here. Was it a way of paying his respects, or just another way he could punish himself by forcing a walk down memory lane to remind him of what he used to have? He was an engineer and that question was firmly in the ballpark of psychology, so he asked the rose what it thought.

It was oddly relieving that it didn’t answer back this time.

He grabbed his bottle of water with one hand and carefully pulled the rose closer to him. Cosmo- er, the rose- fascinated him. ‘Cosmo’ wasn’t actually a rose- at least, it certainly didn’t grow like one. It appeared to be a pinkish-red rose that grew straight from the soil of the pot, rather than from a bush. It had stopped growing years ago, but never wilted, no matter the season. Even when he had been knocked unconscious and was trapped in a hospital room for days on end, with no one remembering to water the flower, it had still clung to life. In fact, it was still fairly healthy when he had returned. Perhaps whatever sort of alien flora it may be did not actually require watering to survive? Whatever the case, he had discovered that regular watering did cause the petals to glow a rather attractive rose color, so he chose to continue doing so.

It made him wonder if it was some sort of gift to him from the real Cosmo. It would be a fitting gift: a rose that would never wilt, a flower that would never shrivel up and die, a plant that he could never kill. He had many things- an iron will, a metaphorical ‘heart of gold’ according to his friends, and a handful of literal titanium teeth- but a green thumb was not one of them. In his presence, it seemed as though even the sturdiest of plants fell to pieces and rotted away to nothingness. Perhaps, if it was a gift from the girl he loved, she knew just how bad he was with plants and sent him something low maintenance. She was always so considerate. It was one of the many things he loved about her. Well, _had_ loved about her.

He took a swig of water and poured the rest into the pot. “Drink up, Cos.” The pedals glowed and shimmered in appreciation. The sight brought a sad smile to his face as he directed his gaze to the forward window and the stars beyond. Despite all the torture and hell they went through on this ship- and especially what happened in this very room and the space ahead of it- it still managed to provide a breathtaking view at night. A feeling of emptiness washed over him as the stars continued to shine above. Knowing that he was up there once didn’t make it any less beautiful, but it did make the experience a little more hollow, muted, _distant._

He chose to look down at the city on the horizon instead. Mobotropolis was still there, on the land across the water, as it always was. Millions of lights flickered on and off every second in the bustling metropolis. Trains making their rounds, cars and motorcycles and extreme gears and scooters making their way downtown. Everything worked together in clockwork. There was never a dull moment in a city like that, which is probably why he didn’t live there. He savored the little moments where nothing was happening. He didn’t get nearly as many as he’d like.

The sound of something echoing down the hallway made him jump and clutch the plant close to his chest. He couldn’t help but feel a bit silly as silence overtook the ship once again. It still wouldn’t hurt to check, he decided, leading him out the door with the plant pot held tightly against him. It was probably just one of the Wisps that had taken up residence in the old ship after all the Mobians had moved out. The Typhoon put him on edge when he was there alone. The absence of the crew along with the lack of light or electricity made the endless maze of metal look like something out of a horror movie.

Everything about the Typhoon felt off since Cosmo’s death, from dim lights to the echoing hallways to the cold breeze that sent chills down his spine whenever it passed him by. The personal rooms and the cafeteria were the most unnerving. It was like walking into a picture of the past with the people all edited out, or an old abandoned house. ‘Kenopsia’, the feeling was called- when the absence of people just makes it more obvious that they’re gone.  So many things left out of place like the owners had simply vanished into the aether mid-step.

Knuckles’ weights were left lying around haphazardly in the hallway.

Cream and Cheese’s tea set, the party still attended by long forgotten dolls.

The toys Cosmo spent hours amusing herself with were still set up on a table in the cafeteria, a cute little setup of fictional heroes in a world of building blocks. Seeing them sprawled out reminded him of how confused she looked when he brought out the box of them from storage and how happy she looked when he and Cream showed her how to use them. She loved making up stories. Blocks and figurines were the perfect way for her to express them; but she _never_ let anyone else touch the toys in her story. It was one of the few things that she was truly protective of and he could respect that. Her story was her story and no one was going to rewrite it if she had anything to say about it  Ever after her death, he couldn’t bring himself to touch a single piece of it. A bitter laugh left his lips as he recalled almost strangling Cream when she tried to pack it up. That was the second time he made her cry that day. It was the first time that made him feel _good,_ knowing that he was saving just one little piece of Cosmo.

He couldn’t guess how many hours he spent there, staring into the faces of those little fake people, desperately trying to understand the story she left in the pieces of plastic.

The Typhoon wouldn’t have been half as bad if the power wasn’t out, and he had Knuckles to blame for that. “The Master Emerald must go with me back to Angel Island!”, he said. “It is not a battery for your fortress! It is an important relic with great cultural-blah-blah-blah”, he probably didn’t say that but Miles stopped listening. His obsession over a glorified power outlet made him laugh most of the time but taking away his only viable energy source was just annoying, especially when the Chaos Emeralds were scattered across space like they were. Knuckles left him in the very awkward position of needing the Master Emerald to get the Chaos Emeralds so he wouldn’t need the Master Emerald because Knuckles wouldn’t give it to him. Thus the Blue Typhoon remained grounded, stuck on the side of this mountain, because one echidna couldn’t part with a funny rock for a few weeks. Such was life.

On his walk back to the control room, five quick ‘ping!’s from his wrist brought his attention to his communicator. Five new messages from Sonic. He looked at the time and raised an eyebrow. 11:38, PM, on the anniversary of Cosmo’s death. Why on Mobius would anyone be calling him now? All his friends made an effort to _not_ disturb him on this single day, once a year, which probably had something to do with him previously answering the phone as a sniveling mess and screaming at them to leave him alone. He was glad he had friends who could respect his boundaries and let him work out his issues in peace. He was not so glad when they still wouldn’t call after he told them it was okay to. But it seemed that was ending! Sonic was finally biting the bullet and asking him if he was-

_“TAILS HELP ME_

_EGGMANS HERE_

_I KNOW YOURE IN MOURNING_

_BUT PLEASE PICK YOURSELF UP_

_AND GET OVER HERE QUICK”_

Miles looked out the window to see smoke slowly rising over Mobotropolis, coming somewhere downtown. Of course. He looked away for five minutes and the damned city caught fire.

“Well, no rest for the wicked, I guess.” He sighed and rested the rose on the panel. He leaned down and planted a small kiss against a red petal. “You stay right here, Cosmo.” Cracking his neck and his knuckles, he made his way out the door. “I gotta go to work."

* * *

 

Miles shifted in his harness as the g-force threatened to tear him out of it. In hindsight, a tiny jet with no cockpit might not have been his safest design. Sure, The _Black Vulture_ offered him extra mobility and made him a smaller target, but it still had the downside of _not being in a cockpit_ and most likely taking a bullet to his stomach if he failed to dodge the onslaught that would inevitably be sent his way. With how poorly designed this thing was, he had to wonder if he was subconsciously suicidal or simply not as good of an engineer as everyone else made him out to be. It was too late to turn back and make changes now as he was mid-flight over Mobotropolis, having already wasted enough time running from the Typhoon down to his workshop to grab the glider.

He could see… Motobugs? Red and blue ones, too! Those were a blast from the past. He could have sworn Eggman stopped producing the original ones years ago but here they were, moving at high speeds on the streets below. Mobians ran for their lives as the one wheeled machines ran them down. Judging by their speed and durability, these weren’t classic ‘bots, but instead high quality remakes. “Where are you, Sonic?” Miles asked the radar that was pinpointing the hedgehog’s location. It seemed he was on Creek Crow Way, only a few miles out.

Out of the shadows of smoke around him flew a volley of energy balls in a familiar three-burst pattern. Buzz Bombers. Classic but typical. Eggman used them way too much for them to be considered scary anymore. He avoided them the same way he always did, practiced so perfect that he didn’t even have to think about it anymore. A flick of the joystick in his hand locked his mounted rifle to the first Badnik and tore it to pieces in seconds, the rest of their flying V formation, seven in total, coming and going shortly after. “Send me something with a little bite next time.”

Three bullets striking the wing a few inches from his head made him eat those words. Keeping their distance dead ahead were three of a new breed of Bomber, painted jet black with wings that span like dual helicopter blades. Tipping their tails, instead of energy blasters, were high caliber pistol barrels. Three lights on the side of the barrel lit up, one after the other, before another round of three bullets were sent flying past him. Miles responded with his own shots but gasped as the bullets merely dented the reinforced robots. Six more shots proved similarly futile, only managing to piss them off as he was forced to dodge another onslaught. Sweat poured from his brow though he wasn’t sure if it was from the heat or the horrifying realization that he didn’t have a gun big enough to beat them. This left him with exactly one option:

Miles nosedived out of the sky and to the streets below. Buzz Bombers were developed to control the air so getting as close to the ground as possible would be advantageous, so long as he didn’t take a wrong turn and become a smear on the pavement or a pile of splattered flesh and crushed bones against the side of a building. What an ironic death that would be, to save the universe once and the world many times over, only to meet his end as a sidewalk pancake with metal chunks and extra jelly- and on the anniversary of Cosmo’s death, as well!

Being this close to the ground gave him a front row seat to the devastation. Aside from the Badniks roaming the streets, he could spot countless disfigured bodies of unfortunate souls who were just too slow for their own good. Corpses marred with tire tracks, people with missing limbs that were torn asunder by the sheer speed of their attackers, even those who were just unlucky enough to be hit by cars escaping the wave of robots. His keen eyes also spotted a group of Mobians being closed in on by Egg Pawns. As much as he wanted to stop and help them, he knew he was needed somewhere else. It was his job and Sonic’s to deal with Eggman and his immediate escort, someone else had to clean up the Badniks- someone else being the local police, the military, literally anyone who wasn’t tracking down the primary threat.

He kept on target toward Sonic. Wherever Sonic was, Eggman would never be too far off.

* * *

****

“Woah, easy there! You gotta slow down, or you might hurt somebody!” Sonic said as he flipped over an overcharged Motobug. He was morbidly impressed by the Doctor’s engineering skills. The guy actually managed to build something that could rival his speed, even if it had to rev up a bit first, and he managed to mass produce it, unlike all his Sonic rip-offs. He had to give the evil genius props for learning from his mistakes for once in his life. They were running him ragged now, maneuvering through the city streets with robotic precision. The hundreds of invading Motobugs certainly weren’t the harmless ladybug-bots he had encountered in his earliest adventures.

The situation wasn’t helped by the countless Buzz Bombers flying over the block and raining down a hail of bullets and lasers, and it certainly was not helped by the twenty-foot-tall, mega-sized Motobug that Dr. Eggman was riding through the city in and destroying anything and _anyone_ that was unlucky enough to be out on the street.

Speaking of people unlucky enough to be out there during this mayhem, Sonic was trying to rescue as many panicking civilians as possible. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that two people- an owl in a red jacket and a pig in a set of biker leathers- were fighting off the Badniks relatively well, using whatever they had on hand at the time. This included fallen robots, it seemed, as Sonic watched the owl suddenly launch up and take flight over the battlefield with an entire bomber strapped to his back and the iron skull of a Motobug over his head like a helmet, engaging in ‘aerial combat’ (more like slamming into everything and wildly swinging a baseball bat) with the invading forces and screaming his head off all the while. Sonic smiled. Imagination is a weapon, and that guy was using it.

 _“Now hold still, Sonic! I want a good, clean race, so no running off until I say go!”_ Eggman’s mocking voice echoed out from behind him. The MegaBug revved up its engine, shaking wildly and turning slightly left and right. _“... GO! ”_ Sonic barely sidestepped the speeding mech as it bolted down the street. The sound of the sonic boom it left in its wake made his ears ring. He may have been used to hearing them on a daily basis, but he was usually prepared for the eardrum popping bursts. Broken glass and cracked bricks rained down into the street as windows and foundation shattered from the force. Civilians ran for cover as they were assaulted by the debris, aside from the owl who was sent flying off into an alleyway, the shockwave sending his bomber spiraling in a glowing red blur. Sonic swallowed the lump in his throat as he watched an old penguin man get crushed beneath a collapsing wall, the hedgehog unable to get his footing in time to sprint over and save him.

“I’d love to race ya, but how about we take it out of the city where we can have a nice, straight track?!” Sonic yelled over the commotion. The doctor’s only response was to drift around the corner at the end of the street and speed off to terrorize more Mobians. “W-wait up! Don’t run away, come back!” Sonic stared awkwardly at the rampaging mech, fondly remembering a time when they fought in countrysides and on island paradises. Back then, he didn’t have to worry about the effects of his maximum speed on the world around him. These days, even reaching half of his potential could have devastating effects if he was anywhere near civilization. He wouldn’t be much of a hero if he was doing just as much harm to the city as Eggman was. Before running off after it, he turned and sprinted to the now shirtless biker pig. The pig was sitting on the ground, hyperventilating, surrounded by robotic wreckage. “Hey, man, are you alright?”

 _“DIE ROBOT!”_ The pig immediately screamed and swung his golf club at the hedgehog, only stopping after Sonic easily sidestepped it. “Oh- oh, hell, you’re real! Sorry, you look a helluva lot like one of those weirdos that showed up and stole Ev’s keychain!”

“What the- why would they steal your- nevermind, it’s fine, are you okay? Do you know what happened to that guy that was with you?”

“Oh, uh, I’m fine! No problems whatsoever, not like there’s an army of robots invading on my day off or anything, no siree. No clue where Evan went, though. Dumbass strapped one of those things to his backpack. Got a feeling we ain’t seeing him for awhile.” The pig walked over to two fallen Buzz Bombers and ripped out their pistol-tipped stingers. With his new dual weapons, he took aim at a Motobug patrolling the street in the distance and sent it to the scrap heap with two clean shots. “Aw, hell yeah!”

Sonic whistled. “Not bad.” The sound of explosions in Eggman’s direction drew their attention back to the situation at hand. “Guess that’s my cue to get back in the action, huh?”

“Yeah, you might want to go deal with that. I’m gonna go see if I can find my idiot before he gets himself killed.” The pig picked up the broken body of a Motobug and straightened out its tire with a kick. Sonic watched with rapt attention as he quickly popped the faceplate open and crossed a few wires.

"Do you do this often?”

“Nah, just learned a few things from a friend.” The final touch was sticking the golf club through its skull as a handlebar, turning the robot into a manually driven motorcycle. “See you around, blue guy!” Sonic waved and ran off after the doctor as the pig sped down the road after the owl.

* * *

 

Miles took a turn a little too quickly and was forced to run sideways along a line of buildings, feet flying as he leapt off the surface and back into the air. He was closing in on Sonic quickly, but the turns were getting tighter and tighter as he built up speed.

 _“HELP ME!”_ The scream of a young girl rang out from the streets below. _“MOMMY! HELP ME! I DON’T WANT TO DIE!”_

There were many things that Miles could ignore. A dying little girl was not one of them.

He dove down to the street, landing carefully on his feet, the glider entering hover mode to keep the weight off his shoulders. “Where are you!?” He called out as he scanned the area. “I’m here to help! Keep screaming!”

 _“HELP ME! PLEASE!”_ The screams led him to a pile of rubble. A small hole in the pile led him see the scared face of a little girl in the darkness, five feet deep in the fallen bricks.

“Don’t worry! I’ll get you out!” The glider wings articulated forward like claws and began tearing away at the rubble as he tried to comfort the girl. She didn’t seem to hear him, or acknowledge his presence at all. He couldn’t blame her; she was probably in shock. With how much rubble she had over her, he was amazed she was alive at all. “It’s okay, I’m almost there- what the heck?” The last few bricks were removed to reveal the girl’s face on the screen of a yellow television. Looking closer, he could see that the footage was of a little tigress girl in a holding cell of some sort, being terrorized by an Egg-Pawn covered in spines. It clicked as the malicious machine struck her across the face with one of its blades. A pre-recorded torture scene. Some kind of diversion to waste his time? Just then he noticed a countdown in the corner of the screen, set to two seconds. It unfortunately took him three seconds to connect the dots. “What on Mobius is-?!”

The blast sent him flying across the street, bits of yellow plastic and hot metal sinking into his skin. It felt like his fur was on fire, but he wouldn’t let that keep him down for too long. He growled and pulled a shard of bloody plastic out of his forehead. The familiar puttering of a jetpack drew his attention as his glider lifted him off the ground and left him hovering in the street.

“Tails.” The loud but serious voice filled Miles with confusion. He knew that voice, but it couldn’t possibly be him. Eggman stopped using _him_ years ago, just a few months after Cosmo’s death. But as the smoke cleared and the shiny black form emerged from the shadows, it was undeniably the Badnik he was thinking of. All in all, Bokkun was looking pretty good for his age. Despite being an older piece of Robotnik Tech, it seemed that he was no worse for wear, even after all this time. Here he was, fully functional and seemingly even upgraded. Bokkun was noticeably taller (almost his and Sonic’s own height, but still a little short) and seemed slightly bulkier, as though his mechanical muscles had been doubled in size. Further examination revealed that he was covered with thick, probably bulletproof plating like the new Buzz Bombers, along with a visor that covered his normally emotive face with a reflective black shield. “How do you like the trap? I had to watch a bunch of your combat footage to get the timing down on it, but I think it turned out pretty well! I’m just glad you were too stupid to figure it out before it went off!”

“Well hello to you too, Bokkun! Long time no see! How’s the family? Decoe and Bocoe still making fun of you for being short?” Knowing Bokkun couldn’t take a joke, Miles shifted his turbines to send him flying away from the little robot.

Bokkun seethed as his jetpack launched him into action. “Shut up.” It seemed his jetpack was upgraded too as he broke the sound barrier and slammed into the fox’s chest. He punctuated his sentence with a firm punch to Miles’ face. His punch was met with a kick to the stomach followed by a shove as the two picked up speed in their horizontal duel. His no-nonsense attitude was incredibly unnerving to Miles, who remembered him only as the funny little prankster who delivered messages. He was never a combat droid, just a messenger bot.

“Get off me!” Miles slammed his head into Bokkun’s visor, cracking the black glass easily but leaving himself a little groggy. Despite his new headache, he was able to flick his wrist and point his gun down at Bokkun, firing three shots into the robot’s head; two hit his horns and bounced away harmlessly, though the third hit his visor and shattered the bullet resistant glass to reveal his scowling silicon face. The force sent him sliding down from his chest to clinging to the back of the Black Vulture.

“I liked that helmet, baka! You’ll pay for that!” Bokkun reached into his messenger bag and pulled out a miniature monitor to throw at Miles. Physics ensued, however, as it harmlessly flew backwards away from them the second it left Bokkun’s hand. It exploded like a grenade somewhere down the street. “...maybe I should have asked for a gun?” His moment of quiet weapon contemplation was interrupted by Miles kicking him in the face again. “Stop that!”

“I will if you’ll get off my glider!” Another kick sent him sliding farther down the glider’s surface, to where he was hanging onto the edge by his fingertips. He sunk his titanium fingers- no, _claws-_ deep into the metal.

“I have to kill you or Eggman’s gonna have my head!” With a groan he pulled himself up to grab Miles’ ankle. “I begged him to give me one more chance! I just have to kill _one of you!”_ He let go of the glider, now hanging entirely on Miles’ leg. He slowly pulled himself up the fox’s body, Miles unable to fight back as he focused on maneuvering them through the increasingly twisted streets. His focus was broken as something cold snaked its way behind his back between him and the Vulture; the square shape told him exactly what it was. _“JUST GIVE UP AND DIE!”_ Bokkun let go and ducked away on his jetpack, the timer on Miles’ back ticking down the last five seconds.

Miles flipped the Vulture, aimed it downward, and loosened the harness. He felt light as a feather as the wind lifted him up a foot away from the metal, and the monitor grenade slipped out from between them. Next came the painful part as he tugged the control stick back up, instantly slamming his spine into the hard metal. His harness automatically tightened back up and the grenade exploded harmlessly in his wake. The gyroscope kicked in and flipped him back under the Vulture where he saw Bokkun flying close beneath him, the look on his face indecipherable. He glanced at the radar. Sonic was just up ahead! “Sorry, Bokkun, but I’ve got a city to save!”  His only response was Bokkun rising into him, grabbing him and throwing desperate punches into his face and stomach.

“You can’t! You can’t, you can’t, _you can’t! I have to stop you! Please, just let me win!”_ Bokkun grabbed his wrists and looked him dead in the eyes, half ordering and half begging him to give up. Miles struggled against him, undeterred by his pleading. Bokkun flipped and used his jetpack to launch them down and sideways to the street below-

The two slammed into a lamppost. Miles flipped as the Vulture’s engine sputtered, all momentum gone, leaving him hovering in the street over the weakened robot. Bokkun was sent to the pavement, silicon scraping and melting off as he slid. By the time he stood up to face Miles again, half of his body and a portion of his face was stripped down to the black and chrome metal. “Do you give up yet!?”

Bokkun stumbled toward him, the damage from their fight beginning to take its toll on him. “T-Tails…” He mumbled as sparks jumped out from his shattered optic. “...I don’t need to kill you, but p-p-p-p-!” His entire body locked up as he repeated the syllable. Miles fixed him with a firm smack with the Vulture wing. “-please, don’t help Sonic! That’s all I ask!” Bokkun dropped to his knees and pressed his battered hands together. “You hate me, right? Good! Stay here and beat me! I won’t fight back, I promise!”

Miles stared at the surrendering robot with surprise. “What are you talking about?”

“Idiot! Did I stutter? Beat me up! Tear me apart! Whatever you want to do to me, just do it! Just… stay here! That’s all I need you to do!”

“Why is this so important to you?”

“Because whatever you do to me, Eggman can fix! Whatever Eggman will do to me when he realizes I can’t stop you, _that won’t go away!”_ Bokkun pulled a monitor bomb out of his bag and lobbed it at Miles. It fell short by at least twelve feet. “Do you know how long I begged him to use me again? How long I spent grovelling on my knees, begging for him to put me back to work? Because I don’t! Because I was kept in a dark storage room for who knows how long, waiting for him to come back, screaming my heart out at the door!” He took another step forward. “I couldn’t use my bombs, I couldn’t break out, I couldn’t even _die_ because the wireless chargers kept me maxed out and awake! I begged for so long, and he finally let me out!”

Miles continued to hover and stare at him, gun trained on the Black Bomber’s torso.

“He fixed me, and made me better! He let me out again! And all I have to do to repay him is keep _you_ away while he takes care of that hedgehog! It’s not a hard job! It shouldn’t be as hard as you’re making it! Do you know what he’ll do to me if I fail this?” He tapped his metal chest. “He’ll set off my self destruct, and I die, and I don’t wake up in a new body like Metal Sonic or the rest of his goons. _I die, for real!_ I’m not backed up anywhere because he thinks I’m _out of date garbage_ and this is my one chance to prove him wrong!” The robot sobbed, some kind of oil dripping from his optics. “Please, let me prove him wrong! Just… stay… _here!”_ The robot shifted in place, ‘breathing’ inward heavily in a simulated sigh. Mechanical muscles tensed beneath the silicon skin that covered him. Bokkun was positively life-like. It was hard for Miles to not be impressed by Eggman’s craftsmanship- he seemed so alive, so much like a person.

“Bokkun.” The robot looked up at him, his face a mixture of fear and hope. “Do you like being Eggman’s minion?”

“Yeah, of course I like being the slave of a guy who threatens to kill me if I fail! It’s great!” His synthetic voice dripped with sarcasm. Miles floated down close to him, a hand on the small robot’s shoulder. The glider collapsed to the ground, and Miles with it, and Bokkun with him, leaving the two adversaries sitting side-by-side on the sidewalk. Minutes passed as the two sat in silence, watching the flames slowly consume the apartment building across from them. The smell of ash and charcoal permeated the air around them.

“...You guys made a mess of this place.” Miles finally said, wiping the sweat from his brow. “I still don’t see the point in any of it.”

“You say that like there ever _was_ a point.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I don’t think there’s a point to it other than destruction. That’s all Eggman seems to be after.” Bokkun paused as he thought of something else. “Well, destruction and Sonic’s head on a pike.”

“Hmph.” Silence overtook them again as the apartment complex finally collapsed into itself. Miles found the inferno beautiful, in its own way. The swirling oranges and reds and yellows, twisting and turning and burning in their little crackling song and dance.

“It’s been awhile.” Bokkun twiddled his thumbs. “How have you guys been?”

“Pretty good, I guess. Not much has changed. Amy’s still crazy. I’ve been teaching Cream some engineering on the weekends.” Bokkun smiled brightly at the mention of the young rabbit. “The usual stuff, I guess. Kind of sucks that old omelet-for-brains still trying to kill us, but I guess some things are never gonna change.” He shrugged, cringing as the glider wing shifted and scraped the ground.

“...Thank you for staying.”

“I’m not.” Miles stood up and revved the Vulture’s engine. Bokkun’s eyes widened at the insinuated threat. “Are you coming?”

“Coming? With you? Are you crazy? Do you know what he'll do if I-!?”

“The way I see it, you have two options. You stay here and let me go, and hope that I stop Eggman before he blows you up,” Bokkun shook his head violently at that option. “Or you come with me and help me stop Eggman so he never gets the chance. I’m going to help Sonic, no matter what you choose, so make your choice. Sit down or hop on.”

Bokkun had the feeling that he was going to die no matter what option he chose, but if he could take a few potshots at the guy who was going to kill him… maybe that would soften the blow a little?

It wasn’t like he had a choice.

Bokkun grabbed hold of the Vulture’s roof.

* * *

 

Sonic panted as the Megabug continued its rampage, the mechanical menace undeterred by his attacks. The MegaBug wasn’t a hard target to land on, but staying on it quickly proved to be a different story. Feeling the soles of his shoes beginning to melt against the red-hot metal, Sonic rolled into a ball and began landing homing attack after homing attack on any parts of the bot that looked structurally unstable. His hits had no effect on the sturdy, metal shell. In fact, every hit sent him flying back into the air as though he were on a murderous, red-hot trampoline. Sonic couldn’t tell what it was made of but it certainly wasn’t the usual, cheap metal Eggman used.

 _“It’s no use, hedgehog! I know all your tricks this time! No homing attacks, no spin-dashing, no ground-pounding can stop me this time!”_ The doctor taunted him.

“He’s right.” Sonic whispered to himself. “I can’t beat this thing alone. Come on, Tails, where are you?” He checked his communicator again. No new messages. As far as he knew, Miles could still be up in the Typhoon, watching the city burn from the safety of his chair.

He was immediately proved wrong by the Black Vulture swooping over his head, guns blazing as he let loose a barrage of bullets against the shell of the titan. The hedgehog’s eyes widened as he spotted something black and yellow hanging onto the top of the glider. Miles’ voice came through his communicator as they made their first pass.

 _“Heeeey, Sonic! Sorry I took so long, had to pick up an old friend!”_ The Vulture swooped in front of him to reveal Bokkun hanging on to the side, a TV bomb in his hand and ready to throw at a moment’s notice. _“Remember Bokkun?”_

“Woah, where’d he come from!? And why’s he helping us?” Sonic wasn’t complaining, just curious.

 _“See, our little friend here has a problem. He’s got a bomb in his chest that Eggman can set off by entering a little code into that console of his, and Eggman isn’t exactly the best boss in the world.”_ The feed went quiet as he saw Miles barrel roll through a swarm of Buzz Bombers that had arrived to defend Eggman. _“As I was saying, Bokkun wants out of his situation. If we can capture Eggman before he issues the access code, Bokkun doesn’t go off like one of his TVs. So, he’s going to help us take this thing down and apprehend Eggo, and in exchange, I’ll remove his bomb.”_

“Sounds good to me, but I can’t damage this thing! What’s the plan?"

 _“You notice how it’s struggling to move?”_ The Megabug was clearly having trouble maneuvering as the debris from its rampage piled around its wheel. _“Bokkun’s bombs can level a building easily, and that’s exactly what we’re gonna do. Keep the Bug still and we’ll bury it in rubble!”_

“Works for me!” Sonic started running circles around it. The Motobugs and Buzz Bombers made it difficult to keep momentum, but he forced his way through.

As Sonic kept him distracted, Miles took Bokkun low to the ground and began firing wildly at the foundations of the buildings around them. It appeared that they were in the industrial district of town- no apartments, no homes, no casualties- meaning Bokkun could bomb as he pleased. The explosions shook the ground as they blasted out the bottom floors of the buildings on either side, narrowly avoiding the falling debris themselves as it worked to bury Eggman’s robot. Bokkun wasn’t a bad partner, Miles decided. A little destructive but that could be useful sometimes. Once they got that bomb taken out, maybe he’d invite him to join one of the teams. Probably not Team Dark, though. He wasn’t sure how Omega would react to another Badnik joining their forces.

The plan went off without a hitch, with the Vulture shielding Bokkun from Eggman’s sight and the debris slowly crushing it. Bricks and concrete rained down like bullets and hail against its shell, a cacophony of horrendous sounds of metal against metal. The Megabug slowly rolled to a stop as the engine gave way to the weight and the wheel assembly unravelled from the pressure.

 _“Grr, Orbot! Combat analysis! What happened!?”_ They could hear Eggman’s booming voice from within the cockpit as it separated from the main body. It rose out over the street, illuminated only by the flames around them. The headlight flickered to life at the front of the Eggmobile, landing on Sonic’s smug face. _“Heh. You think you’ve beaten me, right, hedgehog?”_

Sonic shrugged. “Well, your mech is kind of stuck, and you haven’t used the Eggmobile to fight in years, so… yeah!”

 _"Well, think again- I’ve got a little surprise for you!”_ Sonic rolled his eyes and crossed his arms as he awaited Eggman’s surprise.

He was not prepared when a metal fist hit the back of his head, sending him flying ten feet into a roll. Head aching from the blow, he turned back and threw his fist at his attacker, but his hand was caught by the iron grip of his doppleganger. Metal Sonic’s red optics met his green eyes. He could see something- a glowing red hexagon of what appeared to be glass with a little chain hanging off of it- in the robot’s other hand.

Eggman was not prepared when Miles landed the Black Vulture on top of the Eggmobile, getting into the cockpit _with_ him _._ “And we have a surprise for you!” He slammed Eggman’s head into the console, holding him in place with his foot as he pointed the Vulture’s gun at Orbot and Cubot. “We win.”

Bokkun poked his head around to taunt the doctor. “Yeah, we win! Doctor Eggman, I quit!”

 _“But we have one last trick up_ **_our_ ** _sleeves.”_ A new voice, cold and distant, echoed from behind them. The world flashed red. Miles’ fur stood on end as his bones turned to jelly, sending him and Bokkun hovering back out of the cockpit and freeing Eggman. The new figure floated from behind them, over Eggman’s head, and revealed itself to the paralyzed Prower. The Tails Doll. A child’s toy resembling Miles himself, attached to a floating red gemstone by a wire. Miles wasn’t sure when the last time he saw that thing was, but it had certainly been awhile _._ Eggman built it to beat him in a race once when he was young, and the thing just kept popping up with Metal Sonic every couple of years. It never had the ability to talk or _stun people_ before, though, so it seemed like Eggman had finally given it some well-needed upgrades.

"That's... new. Good work, Tails Doll!" The fat man yelled and laughed.

Bokkun tried hiding behind the Vulture, but he had already revealed himself. “So, Bokkun,” Eggman said, turning the Eggmobile to face them. “What was that you said about quitting?”

“I-uh, I can explain! I-I-I was just trying to trick these idiots into trusting me!” Bokkun scrambled to explain himself. The Doctor didn’t seem too amused. Miles tried his best to move, but whatever the doll did to him wasn’t wearing off. Horrifyingly, Sonic was still dueling with Metal Sonic below- they were on their own.

“Hmph. Orbot, Cubot?” Eggman looked to his two assistants.

“We’re sorry about this.” Orbot said as he tapped away at the console. “Orbot, confirm detonation?”

“I mean, if you’re gonna go, I guess this isn’t the worst way?” Cubot shrugged, knowing his words did nothing to calm Bokkun. “Still, sorry.” Cubot prepared to press the last button to confirm Bokkun’s self-destruct but paused and tilted his head right before his finger connected.

Miles felt his finger twitch.

Eggman scowled at him. “What’s the hold up? Give the traitor what he deserves!”

“Do you hear something, boss?” The technological terrorist stood up in the capsule and listened carefully, trying to hear anything out of the ordinary over the raging flames and explosions in the distance.

Miles wiggled his fingers and tightened his grip on the gun control. Just a little more...

“No, I don’t hear- Wait, what… what is that?” A high pitched ringing echoed from somewhere in the distance. Puzzled, Eggman searched for the source of the rather annoying and rather quickly approaching sound. The sound of metal against metal rang out as a ball of something brown and red flew out of an alleyway and into the back of the Egg-Mobile, a direct hit that sent it flying around it circles and succeeded in scrambling its occupants. As it stabilized, they finally got a good look at exactly what hit him: a Mobian long-eared owl with a red jacket, a Buzz Bomber strapped to his back, a metal mask on his head, and a baseball bat in his hands.

“AHHHHHHH!” Not the most creative battle cry, but Eggman wasn’t in a position to question the owl as he swung the bat at his windshield. Broken glass shattered inward and showered the doctor.

Miles brought his hand down. The gun twisted and fired in less than a second. The bullet tore through Cubot’s head, the moronic machine slinking down into its seat. The hole in its head sparked as live wires rolled out of its iron skull.

 _“Stun recharging! Stun recharging! Situation: Not optimal!”_ The Tails Doll screeched as it floated around in a panic, unable to do anything to help its creator. Bokkun leaped from his platform and kicked the Doll downward into the cockpit. The owl held his bat, clearly ready to swing and break Eggman’s skull if he tried to touch the console. Miles held the group at gunpoint with the rotating rifle.

“Hah! Like he said, we win.” Bokkun pulled out a TV Bomb and made a move to throw it into the cockpit with them.

“N-now, Bokkun, we can talk about this! There are… other options we can discuss!” Eggman slowly snaked his hand over to the red button that would end Bokkun’s life. Miles warned him not to with the rifle’s guiding laser. “I, uh…”

“How about you just stop talking for once, doc.” Miles made it clear that that was an order, not a question.

The owl looked awkwardly between them, realizing he was the least prepared person in this situation. These guys had bombs and guns. What did he have? He had a _baseball bat_ he found in his garage. His eyes twinkled with excitement as he realized who the fox across from him was. “Wow! You’re Tails!” He held out his hand in an energetic handshake. Miles raised an eyebrow and gestured to the gun turret, sadly having to deny it. “Oh, right, right, right. It’s still great to meet you! I’m a big fan of your work in aviation!”

“Nice to meet you too, could we maybe talk about this later? After this guy’s in custody? Kind of doing something right now!” Being polite and being a hero was a tough act to balance. “Really, it is always great to meet a fa-!”

He was interrupted mid-sentence by Bokkun being blown apart from the inside out, Cubot rising with one last spark to press the glowing red button. Bokkun's frail body was nearly vaporized, pieces of silicon frying away in seconds as it tore through him. The blast tore through the chassis of the glider, burning Miles’ back and throwing the gun turret and the owl to the ground below. Eggman turned and, with strength rarely seen from the aging doctor, kicked Miles out of the cockpit, the Black Vulture too damaged to stop his fall.

 _“NO!”_ Miles screamed as he watched Bokkun’s flaming upper body fly through the air. His lower half landed a few seconds later. Metal pieces rained down over the street as the robot’s yellow optic lights flickered and faded. It struck Miles that the little robot had been completely conscious even as his body was torn apart from the inside out. The thought of how painful it must have been made his stomach turn.

As his carrier stabilized itself, Eggman took a short moment to consider his circumstances. His personal machine of mass destruction was wrecked. His Egg-Mobile was defenseless. He was covered in broken glass and very painful cuts from said broken glass.

Now seemed like a good time to cut his losses and live to terrorize the Mobians another, better day. One with less flying owls, preferably.

Metal Sonic watched from the ground as the Eggmobile sputtered and smoked. The self destruct had damaged it; projections stated that it would only be operable for another hour or so. An evacuation notification appeared on his visor, so he delivered one last punch to his rival and ascended to evacuate on the Eggmobile. Their mission was complete, anyway. Sonic jumped up as quickly as he could and ran to catch up to them but was stopped in his tracks by a spark from the Tails Doll, numbing his limbs and sending him down to the pavement.

Badniks scurried out of the streets after the Doctor, the evacuation order reaching them all at the same time- except Bokkun the Badnik, who lie in two singed chunks in the middle of the road.

“Bokkun…” Miles struggled to rise under the weight of the Vulture holding him down, but the vision of the robot that had begged him to help gave him the strength to force it off of him. His right hand shifted, glove ripping apart to reveal the blaster the Zeti gave him. He didn’t like using it on people; it was a weapon designed from the ground up to kill someone. At the time, it was his brother. Now…

He took aim for the back of Doctor’s head.

He missed.

But not entirely, as the shot landed perfectly on Metal Sonic’s arm, tearing it from his shoulder. Metal Sonic silently grappled his stump as his arm fell lifelessly to the street below. The Eggmobile rose and vanished into the night sky, leaving Miles, Sonic, the owl, and Bokkun’s body alone in the street.

Miles limped over to Bokkun’s upper body and crouched beside it, tears welling in his eyes. Bokkun wasn’t exactly a _friend,_ but he didn’t deserve… _that_. “I’m sorry, Bokkun…” It may have been a little disrespectful, but he leaned down and started digging into the mess of burnt wires and parts to see what was left. Anything that could lead them closer to finding Eggman’s real hideout would help them.

Sonic walked up beside him and rested a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, pal.”

The owl had landed on his feet. He was beginning to regret that as he tried not to scream, every bone in his foot and ankle not just broken but completely shattered.

All three looked up as they heard a Motobug rolling somewhere around the corner at high speeds, followed by a small crash and some very loud curse words. Moments later, a pig wielding dual pistols and riding a Motobug motorcycle rolled up to the battlefield. “Yo, what’d I miss?”

“Tyler!” The owl yelled from the ground. “Tyler, come get me up! I’m dying over here!”

“Evan! Man, you look like shit! And what happened to that guy? Looks like he lost a fight with a hand grenade.” The pig- Tyler- pointed at the fox and the ripped apart robot. “And the other guy’s dead.”

Hearing his words, Miles struggled to turn his head around enough to look at his back. Sure enough, his back was scorched, scraped, and had quite a bit of shrapnel in it. Most of his fur was gone, and he was bleeding profusely. When the adrenaline wore off, that was going to _hurt,_ he could already tell.

Just then, his hand bumped against a little box inside Bokkun’s chest. He tugged it out, knocking a few wires out of the way to do so. As he held it up to the light, a feeling of joy and relief washed away the fear of pain.

A whole EGG-OS Processor, Motherboard, and Hard Drive Collective Box. Eggman originally hadn’t built Bokkun with a self destruct, that much he knew. They were installed after Decoe and Bocoe decided to abandon him and work for Chris’ family back on Earth, so they weren’t designed with the self destruct in mind… Which meant that this little piece of circuitry that made Bokkun _Bokkun_ could still be functional.

“Sonic, grab his legs.”

“What?”

Miles hoisted Bokkun’s torso onto his shoulders and stood up. “You heard me. You get his legs, I’m going to carry this, we’re taking him back to my workshop.” Miles stepped over to where the pig was loading the owl onto the back of his Motobug. “Hey. Evan, was it?” The owl immediately perked up and looked up at him. “It was nice meeting you. Glad you were there to help out.” He forced a big smile and gave a thumbs up before walking away, leaving Evan star struck and smiling.

“C’mon, don’t say shit like that! I gotta live with this guy, he’s never gonna shut up about it!” Tyler yelled and sparked the engine again.

“So, what are you guys gonna do?” Sonic asked the newcomers.

“Well, he’s going to the hospital if that piece of shit’s still standing, then I think I’m gonna go home and go to bed. Never going outside again.” With the owl now ‘tightly secured’ with his red jacket loosely tied around his waist, the two rode off down the street, Evan raving about how close he was to his idol and Tyler trying to make him shut up about it.

As they gathered up the little bits and pieces that launched out of Bokkun, Miles stumbled across a little red gemstone that didn’t quite match up to any other debris. A primitive false Chaos Emerald, perhaps? But the little chain on the side made it look like some kind of key chain. “Probably the power source for Bokkun,” he decided as he folded it into his metal hands’ hiding spot. It was a neat little pouch he’d discovered a few days after getting the hand, an internal reservoir he could shove things into if he flipped his hand inside out.

Repairing Bokkun couldn’t be _too_ hard, right? All the pieces were here, he just had to replace the ones that were burnt to a crisp and reassemble the rest into a robot he’s never seen the internals of!

“...Well, at least I didn’t have anything planned this weekend.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ceriph Kri here!
> 
> Welcome to a complete rewrite of Here's To Falling (my first fic, which I have discontinued), now known as Phantom! When I started writing Here's To Falling, I wasn't entirely sure where I wanted to take the story. When I WAS sure where I wanted to take it, it was too late for me to actually take it in that direction because the ten chapters I had already written would have messed everything up- so I'm restarting it from the beginning with the new plot outline.
> 
> The Sonic elements in this story follow an AU I call the 'Patchwork Timeline AU'. The timeline goes as follows: the Sonic games are base 'canon', the characters exclusively from the comics exist but may exist in a different context that matches that of the games, events in the Sonic X anime take priority over the events shown in the Sonic Adventure games, Sonic X Season 3 takes place after Sonic Adventure 2 and before Sonic Colors, Generations, Forces, etc., Mania and by extension Classic Sonic exist in an alternate reality that was created when Classic Sonic met his future self (thus creating an alternate timeline entirely, one where he doesn't meet his future self and becomes Modern Sonic and one where he does and Mania occurs), and everything that doesn't directly contradict these established rules is considered 'canon' to the fic. This fic is set three years after Sonic X Season 3. It also assumes a few things about ages, the only one being important at the moment is that Tails is 6-8 in the Classic Era, 8-10 in Sonic Adventure 1 - Sonic X Season 3, was 11-12 during Forces, and is currently 15 years old. Also in this AU, most of the Chaos Emeralds were scattered into space once again after Shadow teleports the explosion away in the finale of Sonic X, though he returned a few months later with a single emerald and no idea where the others went. The small, optional appearances of the emeralds in Colors and Forces (with the Super Sonic DLC) are considered non-canon, while the Generations appearance is caused due to the whole 'time is falling apart' thing.
> 
> If you like what you see (or don't, I don't judge!), why not show your support by leaving a comment or a kudos? I'd love to know what you think!
> 
> Returning readers may notice that the owl and the pig from the original fic now have names and more important roles; they are, in fact, the first crossover characters from the... "YouTube Fandom", I guess? They're Evan and Tyler, otherwise known as Vanoss and Wildcat, whose avatars have appeared in an online animated series, so... fair game for fanfiction crossovers, and they fit perfectly into the Sonic verse as Mobians. They were always meant to be important to the main plot, having their own side story planned, but I never found a place where I could organically introduce them after Chapter One.
> 
> While cute, the entire section about Cream's birthday was ultimately pointless, included primarily as an introduction to the robotic villains, Metal Sonic and the Tails Doll. So, I have chosen to exclude it FOR NOW for the sake of story coherence.
> 
> Bi-weekly chapter updates will hopefully be the new standard, but I don't want to make promises I can't keep.
> 
> Thank you all for your patience!
> 
>  
> 
> ~Ceriph Kri


	2. Upgrade

Bokkun simultaneously felt nothing and everything together. A mishmash of emotions and tastes and sounds and flashing lights that were both calming and absolutely hellish. His mind was empty, head lost in the raw experience of it all, the universe torn apart, pureed, and fed directly into his being through a straw.

 

**EGG-OS V. 5641**

 

**START-UP INITIATED**

 

**MESSENGER-ROBO, MODEL NUMBER: 1, SERVICE NUMBER: 1, EDITION: 1**

 

**ACTIVATING…**

 

Dark.

Darker.

Still dark.

 

_CLICK_

 

**OPTICS ENGAGED**

 

**_BRIGHT BRIGHT BRIGHT-_ **

 

Bokkun was screaming when he realized he existed again. Error messages blared from every corner of his code, silent voices screaming along with him as every sensor in his body cried out that something was wrong. He couldn’t think, _their_ thoughts drowning out his own in the screaming well of voices inside his mind. He couldn’t tell where he was. The light above him was blinding, like he was staring into the sun. His optics wouldn’t close, either.

 

**AUDIO SENSORY ARRAY: ONLINE**

 

“Why is he screaming!?” A male voice cried out from beside him. Bokkun couldn’t tell who it was, nor did he care. His mind was too clouded. All he wanted was for it to stop-

“I have no idea! Let’s see what happens if I do this!”

 

**USER PROMPT: Would you like to disable error notifications? Y/N**

Something outside his head hit ‘Y’, and the voices were silenced aside from his own. Bokkun’s own screams slowly died out, a sigh of relief seeping through his silicon lips- or he thought it did, as his lips didn’t move in a faux breath like they usually did.

“Well, glad that’s over.” The first voice said. Bokkun still wasn’t sure who’s voice it was, but he shared the thought. “Hey, buddy, are you with us?” A black silhouette appeared over the light, three spines on the back of its head.

“Sonic, would you kindly turn off the light?” In a flash, the silhouette was gone, and no more than a millisecond later the blinding light was gone as well. “Thank you.”

The world slowly came into focus, his eyes- _eye_ , he realized by how small his field of view was- resting on the six bulbed surgical lamp rigged to the roof above him. The optics slowly scanned the room as much as they could, taking in the reinforced steel walls and the walls packed with shelves and tools and bits of machinery. He would have looked down to the floor but found himself unable to move… well, anything. It was like his body wasn’t responding, or like it wasn’t…

“Bokkun, don’t freak out, okay?” Miles entered his field of view and gently rubbed the space between his horns (he was so thankful he still had those), softly comforting him. “I know you’re scared, but you’re gonna be fine. You’ve had a little accident but I can fix it! But before I get you all fixed up, I need to make sure that your neural network is still operating. I don’t want to get your body ready only to find out your dogs stopped barking.”

Bokkun stared at him, slowly processing the words, before croaking out “Okay.” His voice box sounded like he was talking through a burning rubber ducky.

“Good. Okay, do you know who I am?” Miles pointed to himself and spun in a circle, swishing his tails side to side.

“Tails.”

“Right. Aaaand this guy?” He reached out of frame and pulled a familiar blue hedgehog back in.

“I can walk, y’know.” Sonic yanked his arm back.

“S-S-Sonic the Hedgehog.” Bokkun answered correctly again.

“Exactly. And…” Miles walked to the other side of the room and grabbed a bundle of paper- a newspaper, he realized- off of another work table. “Who’s _this?”_ He held the newspaper up to Bokkun’s optics.

_“Idiot.”_

Miles flipped the newspaper to take a closer look at the photo of Eggman on the front page. “Well, you’re not wrong.” He tossed the paper to the floor. “But I need the name, just to make sure your file systems haven’t been… compromised.”

“Doctor Ivo ‘Eggman’ Robotnik, gloriou-” Bokkun cut himself off with an electronic buzz. “-stupid, worthless, meanie, and idiot leader of the Eggman Empire!” The robot growled. “W-w-Who does he think he iiiiiiis, killing me!? I oughta teach hiiiiiiiim a less-less-less-less-on!” His voice crackled and sputtered as he spoke.

“You can get to your revenge plots later, for now we just need to get you back on your feet. And also get your feet back on you. And also the entire rest of your body. Now, I’m going to re enable your error notifications because I need to read them to see if there’s anything wrong with your processors.”

“Ssssshould I be awa-awa-awake for this?”

“Well, no. But as long as you are, feel free to delete any error messages that don’t pertain to parts you currently have. So, everything from your neck down, disregard it!”

“I w-w-w-would like to go back to sleep, n-now.”

“Gotcha.”

 

**Disable Personality Core? Y/N**

 

Bokkun closed his eyes and prepared for nothing.

 

**Y**

* * *

 

Miles bit into his sandwich and briefly wondered if it was slimy ham or slimy turkey that would make you sick. He desperately hoped it was the turkey, as he was too hungry and too lazy to consider making another sandwich with potato chips and ketchup or- Chaos forbid- actually going to the store to buy more ham. Plus, he still had a little more work to do on Bokkun’s body.

The body was actually almost ready. The pieces were all individually built, metal rods and synthetic muscles reconstructed with whatever materials he had, all covered with a layer of high quality silicon skin, hex color #19192E, a perfect match to his old color scheme. The mysterious gemstone/piece of glass was hooked up near his new power core, more or less unused- he wasn't sure what it did, but he hoped it wasn't too important. He also took the liberty of crafting a few pieces of ‘armor’ to hide the seams where his limbs would attach to his body. He didn’t have access to Eggman’s factories, so building him perfectly seamless like he was before was improbable and maybe even impossible. He was even installing the new drivers onto Bokkun’s hard drive. Without them, the robot wouldn’t be able to move a muscle- these parts weren’t from a Badnik factory, after all, so his outdated software wouldn’t be able to recognize them.

He almost hated how easy it was to fix him. Robots were lucky- no matter what you did to them, if their creators weren’t complete and total fools or jerks, they could be brought back one way or another. Hard-drive survival, cloud storage of memories, even just building them with self repair capabilities gave them survivability that he and anyone else would kill for. It was how Metal Sonic always came back with the same old memories, the same old ‘vengeance’, no matter how many times Sonic kicked him to pieces or crushed him like a soda can. If only he could have grasped that power, all those years ago, maybe he could have…

No. She wouldn’t have wanted it, anyway. She wouldn’t have been the first of her kind to seek the eternal life presented by robotization. He personally saw to the deaths of the ones that came before her. She never would have set aside her natural, mortal body for wires and circuits; and in all honesty, he wouldn’t have liked seeing her stripped of her beautiful flesh and chlorophyll form either.

His tablet, the Electric was left lying beside Bokkun’s disembodied head, slowly counting up the percentage of the installation. Static flashed across the screen, but was gone as soon as he’d noticed it. It was to be expected at this point. The little tablet had saved his life, multiple times, both literally and metaphorically. The bullet hole in the reinforced back-plating always reminded him to thoroughly clear the room before trying to hack a terminal. He was thankful that the original SWAT Bot targeting AI was poorly coded. The screen flickered and went black for around five seconds before flashing back to life with his twin tailed logo and resuming the upload.

Problems like that were becoming exceedingly common. In hindsight, replacing the Electric would have been the best course of action, but now it had a sort of sentimental value to him. Trashing it didn’t feel right and repairs did nothing to solve the problems. Maybe he could sell it as a collector’s item? Then he would know it was going to a good home, though he doubted anyone would buy a glitchy piece of garbage that he happened to design, especially when there were newer, shinier ones already on the market.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by the shrill beeping of a finished installation. That took significantly less time than he thought it would, but now he could start welding the robotic pieces together. If he hurried, maybe he could finish the project by nightfall, put the whole experience behind him and get back to his…

 

His...

 

On second thought, it wasn’t like he had anything better to do.

 

* * *

 

“Lift your left arm.” Miles stood before ‘Bokkun’ with a clipboard. He was testing and checking off each part of the little- now slightly taller thanks to a slight miscalculation on leg size- robot. ‘Bokkun’ wasn’t technically Bokkun right now. The little black AI core was sitting on the table beside him. He wanted Bokkun’s first experience in the new body to be a perfect one to make up for… well, getting him killed in the first place. So, he had someone else piloting the Messenger Robo chassis for testing.

 **“Yes, sir.”** Omega barked through both his body and the Messenger Robo, the two connected via a series of red and black wires- red for the AI connection and black to leech energy from the green Chaos Emerald that Omega was holding in his other hand.

Omega was kind enough to ‘borrow’ Shadow’s Chaos Emerald for him while the black edgehog was hanging out with Rouge. It was perfect for boosting Bokkun’s batteries until his bio-reactors were putting out energy, and he was thankful that Omega was willing to risk life and limb to sneak it away from their headquarters. The two had come to be… friends? Miles would say they were friends. They didn’t hang out often but when Omega wasn’t with Shadow or having his ‘normal, well-adjusted person’ training classes with Cream, he tended to be here in the workshop, doing… things. Miles wasn’t sure what he did most of the time. He just sort of paced and fiddled with anything and everything on the shelves and would sometimes tell him vivid stories about how he destroyed a bunch of Badniks the day before or something.

The gargantuan robot and his Messenger puppet lifted their left arms in unison. Omega’s beady red eyes flashed yellow as he watched the little arm move, slithering smoothly, more like an angled tentacle than an arm. **“All servos functional.”**

“Good. And you don’t have to call me ‘sir’. I mean, we’re friends, right? So you can just call me Miles.” He checked the next box. “Right arm.”

Once again the arms raised in unison, though this time they came to rest in a salute that may or may not have been mocking. **“Sir, yes, sir, Miles.”**

“Whatever. Right leg?”

Omega backed up and sat down on a metal stool they had dragged in. It threatened to crumple beneath his weight, but it would hold long enough to check the legs… hopefully. Again, a successful test for both legs. With each piece tested, he ripped the wires out of the back of his head and kicked the stool away. The Messenger Robo immediately went limp as it lost connection. The Chaos Emerald was left sitting on the floor beside him, still wired up to the Robo’s battery. **“Was that everything?”**

“Yeah, that should be it.” Miles was about to turn away but stopped. “Don’t tell anyone about this, okay? We want to introduce him gently. We don’t need any rumors going around just yet.”

 **“Understood.”** Omega nodded and promptly marched out the door, ducking to avoid tearing a hole in his wall. His torso poked back in a few seconds later. **“Will you be occupied this afternoon?”**

Miles raised an eyebrow. “Uh, no? Why?”

 **“I would like to request a 'tune-up'. It has been several years since my last modification, and I believe some upgrades are in order. After all, I am…”** The taller robot directed his gaze to the ground, then to his hand. His fingers moved stiffly and clicked with each little movement. **“...Not as new as I used to be.”**

The fox smiled. “Sure thing, Omega. I’d be glad to fix you up.”

 **“Thank you, Miles.”** With that, he stomped out of the room.

Mere seconds passed before he seized Bokkun’s AI core with both hands, eager to slam it into its new body. His fingers traced the back of the Messenger Robo’s head in a flower-shaped pattern. It took a few moments to register but the head slowly split open to reveal the plug-in for the black and red wires, as well as a perfect spot for the core to fit. It slid into place easily. Within minutes, Bokkun would be back online and back in action. He rapped his knuckles against the Robo’s forehead four times. He had installed a new “always on” system into Bokkun, where once he was activated, he couldn’t be turned off by external forces; he would always have control over whether or not he was online. The fox smiled and turned away as Bokkun’s optics began flashing yellow. The first reboot would take the longest, with him having to adjust to the new form, so he had time to start prepping the room for his next ‘patient’- Omega, who clearly needed new joints and at least six barrels full of oil to bathe in.

“Our work is never done, huh, Cosmo?” Miles half-joked at the little rose sitting on the table beside him. He ran his finger down the green stalk. It came to a halt over the little spot where the second leaf used to be. The sight brought a grimace to his face. Sonic _really_ needed to be more careful with it- all he asked was for the hedgehog to go up to the Typhoon, get the rose, and bring it back, and he managed to damage it on the way. It was annoying, but typical. Sonic couldn’t walk two feet without breaking something. But with this being the only thing left of Cosmo, the least he could do would be to treat it with a little respect!

**_“I FORGOT SOMETHING IMPORTANT.”_ **

Miles yelped and jumped away from the flower as Omega made his presence known. The robot was like an elephant; massive and hard to miss, but completely silent when he wanted to be. Omega strutted past him and crouched behind the table, clasping the green Chaos Emerald in his metal claws. Shadow would destroy him if he lost it and he was intent on kicking around long after all of Mobian kind was dead. With his target secured, Omega began walking out again only to stop beside Cosmo’s rose.

Omega never got to meet Cosmo, yet by how often and how fondly his Mobian allies- no, friends- spoke of her, he felt like she was a part of his family too. ‘The Freedom Fighters.’ For better or for worse, they were stuck with each other. He put the Chaos Emerald down on the table by the pot, and with gentleness Miles had only seen him show toward Cream, Omega extended a single finger out to brush against the bright pink pedals. They shimmered in response, glistening in the sunlight through the window and the work lamp above.

**“Miles?”**

“Yeah, Omega?”

 **“My records indicate that earlier this week was the anniversary of Subject: Cosmo's death.”** The robot finally turned away from the flower and faced the fox. His hands came to rest clasped together in front of him. Omega’s stance could only be described as awkward, in the way an elephant feels awkward in a china shop. It was almost enough to make Miles bust out laughing but he kept his poker face. **“You were close to her. Are you alright?”**

Many people assumed that Omega had the emotional capacity of a walnut, with his monotone voice and un-moving, glowing red eyes. Miles was more or less one of those people- but this was an interesting turn of events and he couldn’t help feeling honored that Omega cared enough about him to ask. “Yeah. I’m doing just fine. I appreciate you asking.” The taller robot responded only by walking over to him and cautiously resting a hand on his shoulder before withdrawing as though he’d been burnt and quickly making his retreat. As he was leaving, having grabbed his Emerald, Miles noticed something strange. His mouth hung open as his mind struggled to process the sight before him.

“...Omega, how many leaves did that rose have the last time you saw it?”

 **“Let me check.”** His eyes went dark for a split second as he checked his footage. **“One.”** Miles stared in shock and awe at the second leaf sprouting from the stem. Omega stared in confusion for a moment before putting two and two together. **“How did that grow so quickly?”**

“Move, move, move!” Omega was quickly shoved out of the way by Miles’ metal arm as he scrambled to the plant’s side. He picked up a wrench from his table and poked the pot with it. The rose did not respond. “Let me try something.” He grabbed hold of the new leaf and carefully pulled it off and sat it on the table. The rose did not respond. “Touch it.” Omega extended a finger and tapped the pedals. Time seemed to stand still- for around two minutes as they waited for it to respond.

The rose, predictably, did not respond.

“I… guess it was a fluke?”

 **“Maybe the leaf was growing beneath the surface and popped out when we weren't looking?”** Omega mimicked a motion that Cream had taught him for ambiguous or nonchalant answers- the “Shrug.” A shimmering green light from his hand caught Miles’ eye.

_The Chaos Emerald._

Sonic and Shadow had tried to save her with Chaos Regeneration that day, but had failed- be it from either too much damage to her or too much damage to them from the nonstop fighting. The resurrection was never completed. If the plant was reacting to the Chaos Emerald, that would mean that something ‘magical’ (or Chaotic as professionals in the field liked to call it) was happening to it. And that could mean...

Miles felt his heartbeat beat in his ears, and his non-prosthetic fingertips went numb. All his fur stood on end.

“Omega, hand me that Emerald.” He said, more of an order than a request.

**“I-?”**

_“Now,_ Omega.”

The robot complied. With the shiny green stone now in hand, Miles brought it close to the anomalous plant. At first, nothing happened, and Miles felt the curiosity, the excitement, the _hope_ leave his body in a flash. Then, in a literal flash of light from the Emerald- no brighter than that of a firefly’s light- the plant sprouted another leaf.

The two stared in complete silence and wonder at the work of Chaos. Omega envisioned the potential scientific explanations for the phenomenon they had witnessed. Miles let loose both giggles and tears as he envisioned the rose, surrounded by the seven Chaos Emeralds, the girl he loved appearing in a flash of light where he’d grab her and hold her and hug her and tell her he’s sorry and-

“What’s going on!?! Why does everything feel all… _weird!?!”_ Both Miles and Omega were drawn out of their thoughts by the voice of Bokkun, having completely forgotten his presence as he rebooted in the corner. The little robot stumbled toward them with unsteady legs and heavy arms. His optics were crisscrossed and his adjustable armor plating was unaligned. If Miles didn’t know any better, he would say he looked drunk. One lazy optic rested on the plant while the other aimed at the fox. “Why are you crying and laughing at a flower?”

Miles stifled his giddy laughter and tried to explain, only to trip over the first word each and every time as he descended further into his happiness meltdown. His hands ruffled his fur, leaving him looking more than a little crazy. For once in years, he had _hope._ “O-Omega, I- Call someone! No, I’ll call someone- no, we should run tests first but SCREW THE TESTS, I can’t just- what do- hahahah, I don’t even know what I’m saying anymore but I don’t care! I need to tell someone! I need to do something!” Miles yelled as he dashed out of the room, skipping and jumping into the house.

**“What are you going to do?”**

“I HAVE NO IDEA!”

 _ **“I WILL COME WITH YOU AND MONITOR THE SITUATION!”**_ Omega yelled and stomped after him.

“I’m so confused…” Bokkun said to himself as he shambled toward the door before face planting into the tiled floor. _“...I just wanna go home…”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello reader(s),
> 
> This fic isn't dead, surprisingly enough. I've just been really busy recently, what with Christmas, New Years, getting a new webcam and recording software, having to adopt my uncle's pitbull for personal reasons, among other things. 
> 
> I ended up in a vicious cycle where the longer I waited to post this chapter the more I felt people would expect from it, so I would write more, thus it would take more time, thus people would expect more- so I decided to snip it at the bud at 3500ish words and just get on with it. 
> 
> The next chapter should have significantly less of a wait.
> 
> Thank you all for your patience.
> 
> ~CeriphKri


	3. Communication

‘Cosmo’ sat on the glass coffee table, perched atop a pile of textbooks and cheap science magazines. ‘She’ made a rather unique centerpiece, ‘her’ beauty conflicting greatly with the rest of Miles’ living room. The carpet was a gaudy shade of red that didn't match the gray wallpaper, and the material felt disgusting beneath anyone’s bare feet. He preferred to keep his socks on inside. Speaking of, his socks from the day prior lay in a stack in the corner with the previous week’s pile of socks. Empty soda cans lined his television- so many that he had begun to wonder if the reception issues were due to the sheer amount of metal he’d stacked around the receiver. The walls of the room were barren- he’d had pictures hanging there, over the television, once. He had torn the photos of his friends from where they hung shortly after returning from space. Luckily for him (and for those around him, he mused), his panic attacks were rarer and much less destructive these days. His couch was a dirty, brown loveseat covered with the stains of things he had forgotten to wash out of his fur. Oil, grease, sweat, and Miles was sure there was quite a bit of blood soaked into the fabric from his years of coming home from battles and flopping onto the couch without showering first. He should have replaced it years ago, he knew, but it was comfortable to him so he chose to keep the old thing. Who was he to complain about a few blood stains, of all things?

“What the heck is that thing!?” Bokkun yelled, pointing at the strange, one-eyed, white squid-like being in Miles’ living room, relaxing on his disgusting couch.

“Huh?” The fox looked over from his pile of technical documents and accident reports, still sorting through and scribbling away with a pen in each hand. He’d spent years compiling information on people, places, and things from all their adventures- surely there’d be something in there that could help them? “Oh, that’s Yacker. He’s a Wisp- oh yeah, you weren’t... there... for that. There was this whole thing with a space amusement park. They’re from another planet.”

“You have a pet alien!? I want a pet alien!” The little robot stared up in amazement. Yacker, in return, came to rest between his sharp, black horns, much to Bokkun’s amusement. “It likes me!”

 _“8 &6#WM%$.” _ The Wisp mumbled incoherently. On the opposite side of the room, the Miles Electric lit up and echoed back in Mobian, _“I am not a pet. Do not insult me, metal man.”_

“He _really_ hates being called that. He’ll let you off with a warning this time, but he _will_ bite you if you call him my pet again.”

“...It has a mouth?” Bokkun’s optics shrunk down to pinpricks. Yacker wrapped two of his three tentacles around his horns and tapped his head. Bokkun looked up to see the tiny yet terrifying hole full of weird, nubby teeth between its tentacles. _“GET IT OFF ME! GET IT OFF ME!”_

Miles rolled his eyes and motioned for the one silent party, Omega, to handle the situation. With the grace of a fork in a microwave, the taller machine stepped in and grabbed the Wisp in one hand and Bokkun in the other and tugged. The two came apart and both were unceremoniously thrown to opposite sides of the room. Yacker escaped out the open window, mumbling to itself about the indignity of the situation. **“PROBLEM SOLVED.”**

“Ow…” Bokkun was in pain, but on the bright side, it seemed like his new armor was pretty durable. “Y’know, this new body isn’t so bad- could you try not to break it?”

His new body _was_ pretty awesome if he said so himself. From the outside, he seemed almost organic; he had ‘skin’, which Miles said was some form of silicon, covering his entire form with not a single screw, bolt, or pull-tab to access his internals in sight. There was a nearly invisible seam around the front of his torso, though tracing it still didn’t reveal his mechanical nature. The only clear in and out of the robot was its mouth, where food and oil went in and… nothing came out. Bokkun hadn’t appreciated when Miles ‘ruthlessly’ shoved an endoscope down his gullet to show off his internals to him and Omega.

Miles was even kind enough to show him how to open himself by tracing a flower pattern on his stomach, giving him a great view of his own chest cavity. And oh, what a chest cavity it was. Powerful processors, sticks of ram, countless wires in a beautiful rainbow of color coded majesty, a compact and highly efficient mass reactor the likes of which he had never seen, flashing lights and warning signs that they both chose to ignore because Miles was frankly flying blind when he built him; Miles felt like a proud child showing off his newest creation to a parent. Bokkun, on the other hand, felt like the victim in a horror movie as his guts were put on a bright, shiny display for the whole world to see. It felt odd to know that one rough touch against anything inside might be enough to kill him.

**“No promises.”**

“Baka.”

**“Kutabare.”**

“You have the Japanese translation pack too?”

**“Affirmative.”**

“Oh, come on!” The two robots were pulled out of their conversation by Miles suddenly screaming and throwing his stack of papers across the room. “There’s literally _no_ information on Chaos Regeneration anywhere in these files! Is Cosmo seriously the only person in the whole world someone tried to heal with these things!?” He groaned and threw another folder over his shoulder. “I’ve tried the Infinite Incident, the ARK Incident, Chaos 1, Perfect Chaos, Chaos, _Chaos,_ ** _CHAOS!_** There’s nothing about any kind of healing technique through the Chaos Emeralds!”

“But you said that the plant was healed when you brought the Emerald close to it?” Bokkun asked as he attempted to perch himself on Omega’s shoulder- a very difficult task without his still disassembled jetpack.

“Yeah, but we need more information than ‘plant grew a leaf when we held a rock next to it’! We’re flying blind into a resurrection attempt! Who knows what horrible side effects there could be!? What if it explodes? What if it releases a burst of radiation that gives us all full-body cancer? What if it-!?”

**“We do not actually have the Emeralds yet.”**

“Yeah, so?”

**“We need to get them eventually regardless of outcome. Why do we not collect the Chaos Emeralds first, then deal with whatever consequences the resurrection process may or may not have?”**

“Because… because…” Miles trailed off as he looked through another folder. “I don’t want to be disappointed again. I _need_ to know that this is actually possible. I let myself get worked up over a leaf growing on a rose. That isn’t the same as bringing her back and I can’t get my hopes up until I know this will work. That’s why I need…” His eyes widened and his jaw went slack. “...a written report on the effects of Chaos Regeneration on a dead body. Huh. There it is.” He continued reading as Omega watched with interest. Bokkun, on the other hand, wandered further into the house in search of a kitchen to raid. “Ew. Not the most reliable source folder.” He flipped it over to reveal in large red letters, ‘Iblis’.

His adoptive brother had told him quite a few tall tales over the years- stories of being sucked into magic books, sword fighting with Black Knights and King Arthur or something, or the time he supposedly helped a ‘cute’ human-like genie girl murder some evil djinn in a world inhabited by caricatures of their friends- but the most ludicrous one of all was one that he insisted was true, because Miles himself was supposedly there. A story of time travel, demons, bad futures, and Sonic having a human girlfriend who was also the princess of Soleanna. There were so many things inherently wrong with that story, Miles wasn’t sure where to start.

Oh, wait, yes he did: _they have never been to Soleanna, and Blaze isn’t from the future._

Still, there _was_ a part in there about Sonic dying and being revived through the power of the Chaos Emeralds (and also a kiss from this human princess. Miles was beginning to suspect that Sonic may have a fetish), so it was worth paying attention to, he supposed.

“You find something?” Bokkun mumbled through a mouthful of stale chips as he meandered back into the room. It reminded Miles that he still needed to go grocery shopping- he was pretty sure those chips were the only thing left in his fridge.

 _‘...Why do I have chips in my fridge?’,_ he wondered. He knew he was a little scatterbrained after the Metarex Incident, but he was pretty sure he wasn’t _that_ off.

“Maybe. I’ll have to check with Knuckles to see how much of this is legit and how much of it is just Sonic’s creative writing practice, but it looks promising enough.” He shrugged and started picking up the scattered files from his slight freakout. “Do either of you have data on how Chaos powers work? Anything Eggman may have programmed into you or something you’ve overheard?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever even held a Chaos Emerald.”

 **“Hold Chaos Emerald. Shout 'Chaos Control.' Go fast.”** Omega’s description was a bit of an oversimplification. **“That is what Shadow told me.”**

“Oooookay. Well, I was going to explain it, but I don’t think I have the time, the patience, or the crayons to properly explain it in a way that you or Bokkun would understand.”

“Was that an insult?”

 **“I do not think so? Cream uses crayons as a visual aid during our social interaction lessons.”** Omega hummed happily. **“She is a good teacher.”**

“C-Cream? Cream is your teacher?” Bokkun _liked_ Cream. It was a secret that he managed to keep under lock and key, at least until a particular bat stole his locket and made him into her personal puppet. Despite wanting to keep his affection for her on the downlow, he was still rather excited by the prospect of seeing her, especially now that he was…

Free.

The realization didn’t quite set in until that exact moment. He was _free._ Miles wasn’t keeping him there. There was no explosive device planted in his synthetic stomach to vaporize him when he acted up. There was nothing holding him back. He could walk out the door right now and never come back and there would be no consequences. The sudden freedom drove him to search his programming for answers, only to find that even his directive was modified from the usual, thirty-two page long Egg Empire manifest- instead replaced by a single word, typed in bold, italicized, and underlined.

**_FREE_ **

He could go outside. He could go to the beach. He could go to the park. He could go to the ice cream store and steal as much as possible. He could go race Sonic on his own terms. He could sell the secret locations of Eggman’s bases to private military companies all across Mobius. He could relax on a workday.

He could go say ‘hi’ to Cream without an ulterior motive. He could ask to sit with her. He could ask to be her friend. He could flirt with her. He could…

Continue standing right where he was because all of those thoughts were _equally_ terrifying.

 **“Bokkun?”** Omega poking him in the face pulled him out of his processes. **“You have been staring into space looking more and more horrified for the last three minutes. Are you experiencing any errors? Do you require another software update?”**

“Uh, no, I’m fine! Just wondering what I’m gonna do now that I’m free. That’s all!”

Omega put a hand to where his chin would be in an effort to mimic a thinking pose. **“That is a good question. You are fully repaired. What do we do with you now?”**

“Now? Uh,” Miles looked down at the Chaos Emerald on the coffee table, then back up at Bokkun. “I guess Cosmo’s not exactly coming back _soon_ , so I guess we’d better… Hm.” He paused and pulled out his communicator. “I guess we should call everyone over to tell them everything that’s going on. I’ll get Knuckles, Sonic, and the Chaotix. Omega, can you call Rouge and Team Rose for me?”

_**“AFFIRMA-!”** _

“I can call Cream for you!” Bokkun said excitedly.

“I don’t care who calls who, just call someone! Omega, could you grab a communicator from the box under the couch and set Bokkun up?” Miles pointed to the couch in question. On further examination, the two robots found a cardboard box full of older models of communicators. Omega had no use for communicators himself, having his communications system built into his body instead, but Bokkun would be stuck with one of the wrist mounted ‘Miles Electric’ brand communicators that were so popular these days. Omega recognized quite a few of them from the commercials that were always on TV displays at all the tech stores, while Bokkun stared at them as though they were some technological breakthrough.

Which they were, at least five years ago. Now they were a bit outdated, replaced by newer, sleeker, faster, lighter models. A lot like Bokkun, now that he thought about it.

“I want this one!” Bokkun said as he pulled a yellow and black one out of the box. Seventh gen. Not a bad year, but people complained about how dim the display screen was. Hopefully, that wouldn’t be a problem.

It took Omega less than a minute to set it up, just entering his name and uploading the contacts directly from his data banks. **“Done. Take it and begone.”** With that, Omega’s body went stiff, staring straight ahead as he internally dialed Rouge.

* * *

 

Cream was blacked out on the couch in her and her mother’s living room, drooling into a pillow with Cheese standing guard over her head. Miles was, as mentioned before, giving her engineering classes on the weekends- she wanted to take a more direct role in helping her friends and the power of technology seemed like a good way to do it. Miles, the cruel teacher he was, had given her nearly thirty pages of homework to finish by the end of the week, and she had pulled an all-nighter to finish all thirty pages on the last day, leaving her completely drained come this lazy Saturday morning. She was pulled out of her deep, dreamless sleep by the ringing of the communicator around her wrist.

“Ugh… wuh?” She struggled to flip the watch open. “Ishh Cream, whoossssit?” Her words were slurred as she held the communicator up to her ear, eyes still clamped shut. Nothing but static came over the line. “Hullow?”

 _“H-hiya, Cream!”_ A chipper voice finally stammered through the static.

“Chaarmy? Issat you? D’you get a new comms or sumthin’?” Cream rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and lifted her face out of her puddle of drool.

_“It’s Bokkun. It’s been awhile, huh?”_

Her eyes shot open. There, on the screen, was the little black robot. Not exactly how she remembered him, but definitely the same robot she knew five years ago. “Bokkun!? Where have you been? Everyone was worried about you!”

_“Wow, really? You guys were worried about me?”_

She had to think about that one for a minute. “...Well, at least Rouge and I were worried! And Miles and Sonic looked for you too!”

_“I’ll take what little pity I can get! I don’t really have time to explain everything that’s happened, it’s kind of a long story, I got blown in half, and the green girl might come back to life, I really think you should just come over here.”_

“Wait, green girl- you mean Cosmo back to- you were blown up!? What are you talking about!? Where are you right now!?”

_“I’m at Tails’ house! Should have opened with that! Just get your mother and get over here! We’ll explain it all when you get here!”_

 

 _Click_.

 

He hung up, leaving her bewildered and, sensing an oncoming adventure, almost wishing she just let it go to voicemail.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CeriphKri here,
> 
> Hi there, one or two people who may be reading this author's note (because who actually reads these things?)! I've got a kind of important question I've been asking myself, but I think you guys could maybe answer it better:
> 
> Do you prefer longer chapters (like Chapter 1's 8,000ish words) or shorter chapters (like Chapter 2 and this one)?
> 
> I'd like to see your opinions, so leave a comment if you've got time!
> 
> As for actual author's notes...
> 
> If you read the original "Here's To Falling" and recognize any lines or paragraphs from it here, it's because I found places where I had already described something, tried to write it over again, and decided that the original was better in one way or another. Is it lazy? Maybe. Will it be happening often? Probably not, because I'm more or less out of things to copy that still apply.
> 
>    
> I think this chapter might be what's called 'fluff', but I'm not sure. I'm pretty sure fluff is there specifically to pad out a story without advancing the plot. This DOES advance the plot and builds both the characters and the world, but it does so fairly slowly and doesn't make much ground. I dunno what you'd call this, then.
> 
> Probably still fluff.
> 
>  
> 
> I am, have been, and will most likely continue to be,
> 
> ~CeriphKri


	4. Hooligans

**THE PREVIOUS DAY, SOMEWHERE ELSE...**

 

“Happy birthday, hon. This one’s on the house.” The wolf-girl waiter sat the plate on his table before running off to serve another.

The diner was in the interesting state of being both eardrum shatteringly loud and eerily quiet; a sort of oxymoronic sound in which the cacophony of voices and noises from the busy city street outside formed together to create an inaudible white noise.

Nack tapped his fork against the crust of his pie and watched as the apple filling jiggled within. Consistency was right, at least. He brought a bite to his saliva dripping muzzle and smiled as it passed over his tongue. A sigh, almost a growl, rolled out from his throat. To say he was starving was an understatement.

In the background of the bustle of the street corner and the diner’s patrons, his ears picked out the sound of the jukebox in the corner playing his favorite song- one he’d learned during his team’s random adventure to Earth a few years ago. Plenty of Mobians had fallen in love with Earth culture during their short, Chaos Control caused stay. It was no surprise that they’d brought back the music with them. Covers of popular Earth songs were the most popular things on the radio these days, just like Mobian remakes of human movies dominated the theaters. He thought it was kind of strange, how quickly their own culture fell apart, replaced by so many 'innovations.'

 _“When I look in the mirror… I can’t believe what I see. Tell me, who’s that funky dude… staring back at me?”_ Focusing in on the music, he took another bite, closed his eyes, and tried to drown out the world around him.

“...Alright, I’ve got the music playing. You feeling better?” 'Tried' being the operative word as his green-feathered partner in crime slid into the booth. Nack popped an eyelid open to see him balancing a little black bomb on his fingertip. After checking to make sure tip wasn’t lit, he closed his eyes again and went back to his 'happy place.'

“I’m just fine, Bean.”

“Are you still mad at me?” Bean looked at him with puppy dog eyes and a hopeful smile.

“Yes, Bean.” He wasn’t going to get mad. He wasn’t going to yell. He was going to focus on the nice music that Bean started on the jukebox and relax. This wasn’t the time or the place for duck hunting. Bean’s hopeful smile dropped into a scowl.

“I said I was sorry! I washed your bike, we got you the pie, I spent all my pocket change to play your favorite song!” He counted out his actions on his fingers and tossed the little bomb into the seat. “I swear, we did everything we could to get you out, but things kept getting in the way!”

The two Hooligans spent the next two minutes in an uncomfortable silence before Nack spoke up again. Anyone unacquainted with them could easily mistake them for an old married couple on the verge of divorce. Anyone who  _was_ acquainted with them would know just how close Nack was to killing everyone in the room, starting with Bean.

“Look, I’m not mad that you took so long.” He dabbed his muzzle with his napkin to remove the pie crumbs. “I’m  _pissed_ that you didn’t even  _try_ to help me. I got out on my own this time, but I still don’t get what you were doing the whole week that was so important.”

“W-well, there was, uh, a thing that happened and there were, uh… other things that needed to be done, and- oh, and the bald guy invaded the city again, and it was total anarchy! And then-!” Nack interrupted Bean’s stammering with a raised hand.

“Get to the part where you explain how any of that was  _your_ problem and why it was a higher priority than helpin’  _me._ Your  _friend._ ”

“C’mon, what kind of story would it make for you when we got you out if there weren’t any adorable antics along the way?”

“Bean, you have ten seconds to convince me not to paint the nice family in the booth behind you with the insides of your head.” His tone of voice would be more fitting of a mother to a misbehaving child rather than an outlaw to a mad man. Paradoxically, Bean found it to be even more threatening, especially coming from the mouth of his long time partner. The malice dripping from Nack’s muzzle was enough to send shivers down his spine.

Bean rubbed the back of his head and sighed. “This was meant for me, but I think it’ll cheer you up.” He pulled a small remote out of his pocket and slid it across the table to the jerboa. On the back of the remote was the inscription,

_“For Fang the Sniper - because revenge is a dish best served in a flash of light and without warning.”_

“Okay, I lied, it’s for you. I was just going to wait until you were in a better mood to give it to you.”

“What is it?” The ‘gift’ piqued Nack’s interest. It didn’t go unnoticed.

“Well, my purple furred friend, take a look outside, press the button, and find out! Live on the dangerous side of life! Drive on the wrong side of the road! Take a gamble!” Nack looked outside, across the street, to see the police station that had been his prison for the past week. It was ironic that out of all the illegal things he had actually done in his life (armed robbery, countless assault cases, and murder being a few of the top contenders), he was arrested for something he  _didn’t_ do: speeding in the city. He loved the Marvelous Queen- his bike- more than anything else in the world. There was no way in Hell that he was going to drive his baby that fast anywhere he could wreck it, not in a million years. He would risk his life for it, bur he'd never risk his life  _on it._

His gloved finger hovered over the red skull marked button for a moment before pressing it in.

The music cut out as the glass windows of the diner immediately shattered. The police station was reduced to a smoldering crater, a mushroom cloud of smoke rising from the wreckage. Nack could have sworn it created a perfect smoke skull and crossbones across the sky. Car alarms went off for miles around. Civilians ran screaming through the street as the patrons of the diner hid beneath their tables, though the two partners in crime remained perfectly still in their seats even as flaming chunks of building rained down on the heads of random passersby. A burning police cap landed on their table...

Followed by the rest of the police man. Nack assumed it was a man, anyway. The body was far too charred for him to tell. Luckily, the launched corpse managed not to land on his pie, instead hitting the very edge of the table and tumbling to the floor in a pile of ash and bonemeal.

Slowly, the jukebox flickered back to life and the music resumed, though a little distorted. Or was it his hearing coming back? He couldn’t tell. He was a mercenary, not an otologist.

“...Damn, Bean. I figured it was gonna be a bomb, but that was a bit bigger than I imagined.” He casually took a sip of his coffee and another bite of his pie, trying to avoid eye contact with the smug duck across from him. He grimaced as he pulled a small shard of broken glass out of his mouth and tossed the bloody piece into his plate. “Bleck. Just my luck.” He was still hungry, but no pie was better than pie with a side of internal bleeding.

He just wished he had the rings to buy something else.

“Well, Fang?” Bean leaned across the table to invade his personal space.

“Alright, I’m a big boy, I’ll admit it.” Nack smirked and showed off the fang that gave him his nickname. “That  _was_ pretty sweet of ya. All’s forgiven.” He said as he grabbed his hat off the seat and slid out of the booth. The world was waiting for them. “C’mon, pal, let’s get out of here.”

Bean smiled and nodded as he followed him out the door. “What’s our next score, boss?” He asked hopefully and thumbed the pin of a grenade on his belt. He  _could_ have thrown it back into the diner as they left, but decided not to. No need to draw more attention.

“Ain’t got a plan yet. Nothing worth hitting around here that won’t get us killed…” Bean’s sad expression made Nack backpedal. “But let’s talk to the big guy, first. Then we’ll figure out what we’re doing.”

* * *

“Bark!” Nack exclaimed as his ‘favorite’ polar bear rounded the corner, riding atop the Marvelous Queen. After carefully parking Nack’s pride and joy and crawling down the side with the grace of a werehog on acid, Bark turned to him, silent as ever, and clapped a hand onto his back. Nack groaned and coughed as the hit knocked the wind out of him. The bear said nothing but the cheeky smile on his face said enough for him to get the gist of it. “Yeah, it’s good to see you too, you big lug. D’ya get the stuff I asked for?”

Bark grunted and reached into the Queen’s passenger seat. Two bags were drawn and tossed to the duck and the jerboa- a plastic one from a fast food joint down the street and a brown paper one from the liquor store across town. The brown bag had at least six bottles in it. “Let me say it again: it’s  _damn_ good to see you!” Nack laughed as he jumped into the sidecar. He gestured for one of his two companions to take the helm as he turned up a bottle of cheap whiskey. No, he wouldn’t drink while driving, but that didn’t rule out some passenger seat relaxation. Bark clumsily crawled over him and into the driver’s seat. “So, how much was left over?” Bark shook his head at Nack’s question, making him pale and sip from the bottle a little slower.

Bean, in the opposing sidecar, was tearing into the cardboard boxes of food. “Alright, alright, we’ve got a chili dog with onions and chopped lettuce for the convict, my club sandwich is here, YES-!” He paused and hastily shoved half the sandwich into his mouth before continuing, chewing loudly with his beak hanging open. Nack made a mental note to vacuum his sidecar out later. “And lastly-!” His words were muffled by the chunk of bread. “I assume the two burgers bigger than my head are for the mute?” Bark nodded and threw Nack’s box into his lap before stuffing a burger into his mouth.

The engine of the Queen hummed to life. Within minutes, the Hooligans were away on the highway out of town, watching the smoke from the police station rise up over the city skyline. An hour, two traffic jams, and a few exits later, the pavement and towering skyscrapers gave way to cracked and faded roads with the rare house or convenience store, and within the hour even they were gone as the hoverbike drifted off the road and carried them into the barren countryside.

“...any idea where we’re goin’?” Nack asked as he polished off the bottle of whiskey and dropped it out of the sidecar. Bark shrugged. He wasn’t taking them anywhere in particular, just out of the city. Maybe they’d be lucky and run into an abandoned house out here. Plenty of Mobians lived alone out in the wild, especially the older ones who couldn’t adjust to the new ‘modern’ cities- or more likely couldn’t afford it. They’d die alone in their homes and no one would find them for days, weeks, even months; their former homes made great safehouses. Well, maybe not great, but it was better than sleeping in the cold on a winter’s night like this. The thermometer on the dash read 37° Fahrenheit. Warm enough for him, as usual. Being a polar bear had its perks but that didn’t mean his passengers would be comfortable.

“Hey, Fang?” Bean leaned back in his seat to look across at the jerboa. For once, he sounded relaxed. Perhaps he was having a rare moment of clarity?

“Wot?” Nack drifted back into his Downunda accent for a moment before clearing his throat. “Ehm, what’s up, Bean?”

“What are we gonna do?”

“About what?”

“About money.” A frown spread over Nack’s face. Bean wasn’t stupid, or oblivious, but he always hoped he wouldn’t notice it. That was a funny thought. Even an idiot would notice when they were regularly going weeks without a roof over their head and days without food. “We’re broke. No more rings.”

Bean was right. They were running a bit low on the ol’ funding these days, having to shell out the ‘shiny’ rings at every turn for food, gas, and motels, along with guns and bullets for the two members who weren’t masters of Bombomancy (Nack still couldn’t believe that was a real thing but he also couldn’t explain where Bean got his endless stash of explosives. A magical, talking book with a bomb in its mouth granting him magical powers somehow wasn’t the weirdest thing he’d ever heard, but it was still up there.). Their previous heists hadn’t gone over so well and left them and their hoverbike with almost more expenses in hospital bills and repairs than they had stolen in the first place. Automated security, defense robots, assault weapons, and heroes popping out of every hole in the ground made it hard to get anything done anymore.

They were a failing gang and the money was running out. Without someone like Eggman taking out contracts with them, they’d be flat broke and out of gas in a week, and they hadn't heard from the fat man in... months? Years, even. They had tried to get in close with a couple of crime lords and mob bosses in Mobotropolis- some mammoth in a nice suit and some other Mobian wearing a monkey mask- but both deals had turned up nothing for them.

Nack sighed. They were screwed. They were going to spend the rest of their lives holding up gas stations for fast food and gas, only getting a good meal when they told waiters it was his birthday. They were stuck out here in the cold with nowhere and no one to turn to. There was no criminal empire with them at the top.

That had been the dream, all those years ago; three failed tournament fighters- four at the time, he reminded himself as he remembered how excited Honey was- would band together, rob banks, make bank, and live out their lives in the lap of luxury, remembered by all as one of the most successful gangs of all time. They had been so young back then.

Young and stupid.

Honey had been only a few months older than him, at that special age of sixteen where she hated everything that was genuinely good for her, and she had jumped at the chance to leave her old life behind and strike it rich with him and his ‘bodyguards.’ She wanted the money to start a company in the big city, making sissy dresses for fancy ladies. He didn’t get why a tomboy boxer like her wanted to spend her life savings doing something so girly, but she was determined and he admired her ambition. It was everything she ever said she wanted, and he could respect that for what it was.

Bean had been a year younger than the both of them, and his bombs were less lethal and more annoying at the time. Firecrackers, really. Bean just wanted to cause mayhem and he was happy to come along for the ride. Nack found comfort in knowing that he would always be there, a bomb in his hand and a devious smile on his face.

He hadn’t known Bark’s age at the time (and who was he kidding, he still had no idea how old the man was) but he was certainly a little shorter and a bit pudgier. Bark was always just... there. Silent. Brooding. Helpful. He was happy to take his share of the money but never let on as to what he wanted it for. He supposed it didn’t matter to the gang; they were only business partners, after all.

And he was only sixteen at the time, a young lad with no real experience in anything illegal beyond sneaking a few candy bars into his pockets at the grocers. He’d brought a damned popgun to a fighting tournament, for Chaos’ sake. He came up with this horrible idea in the first place; all he ever said he wanted was to be an outlaw, like in the movies he watched with his sister before he left home. He said he wanted to play cards in sketchy bars, and shoot sheriffs, and make women he didn't know swoon over him while he remained an aloof, teasing, enigmatic wanderer.

Four kids who set out to make it rich, running wild and free without a care in the world, with nothing to their names but the clothes on their backs, an endless supply of firecrackers, a popgun in his holster, and a rich girl's bike with three side cars beneath them. “The Hooligans.”

“I don’t know, Bean.” Nack finally said, suddenly deciding to crack open another bottle. Bean turned away and laid his head down on the back of the seat. Nack thought he had the right idea. The sun was starting to set and sleep was starting to sound pretty nice right about now.

Sleeping. That was a thing they didn’t do a lot when they were children. No, he and Honey and Bean would sit around telling stories by a fire late into the night, not caring about how loud they were because they were ‘ _hardened criminals, and gangsters, and stuff!’_ , and also because they were alone in the middle of the Mirage Desert where no one but Bark would care. And then Bean would always fall asleep around midnight, and he and Honey would stay up and talk, and share secrets, and complain about their parents until they either fell asleep side by side or the sun came up. They were just young, stupid kids who didn’t appreciate the value of a good night’s sleep. Life was too short to waste eight hours a night lying down.

But they were all grown up now, and what a right mess they turned out to be. A gang of washed up mercenaries and pathetic ‘bank robbers’ who hadn’t successfully robbed a bank in years, with no future ahead of them and a trail of wanted posters behind them as far as the eye could see. Except Honey, of course. She never got caught. She never got her name on any lists. She was  _always_ the smart one. Got the money from their first ten scores and left their little gang behind. She had moved to Mobotropolis and, true to her word, started Mobius’s most successful clothing brand. He had only a hundred rings to his name when he heard about it, but he spent every last one on a pair of  _Honey Brand_ socks that were overpriced and red and frilly and far too girly for him, that Bean teased him about every chance he had, that were riddled with holes from walking around so much when they ran out of gas, that he still wore with pride because he was so proud of her.

She had asked him to go with her.

He still wished he said yes.

He briefly wondered what it’d be like to see Mobians in the streets wearing hats and belts and boots like his. Changing the face of male fashion in the same way she changed women’s attire forever would have been a pretty good legacy for a guy like him- but he knew no one would ever be caught dead dressed like that. He was an old western film, brought to life. Stuck in the past, and her brand was all about moving forward. It never would have worked out.

He spent a much longer time wondering what it’d be like to spend every day working with her again. He envisioned himself wearing a fancy suit with his oversized belt and his raggedy old hat, and walking through a corporate office full of faceless people he couldn’t be bothered to learn the names of. He’d get hot, fresh coffee from a private coffee machine in a private breakroom, and he’d take an extra cup up to Honey’s office, and then she’d smile at him and show him whatever new thing she was working on, and she’d have that look in her eyes that made him feel almost as excited as she was. Maybe. He didn’t know anything about the fashion industry. Did they even have corporate offices? Or did they have something more like sweatshops filled with sewing machines? He could only wonder what sort of place she built for herself.

He spent the rest of the night wondering if she ever wondered what he was doing. Maybe she was alone in her office/sweatshop right now, staring out the window at the same night sky as he was, gazing into the same moon he was, and wondering what sort of crazy antics he was up to right now. Each envisioning the other sitting atop a pile of rings and surrounded by everything they could ever want. He wondered if she envisioned him happy as the crime lord, bank robber, criminal mastermind he always wanted to be instead of the worn-out bandit he was, and for just a moment he wondered if she was as happy as he envisioned her before he forced the thought away. Of course she was happy, she had everything she ever wanted.

The irony was not lost on him that he had everything he ever _said_ he wanted, too.

He’d spend the rest of his life wondering what would have happened if he said yes.

“What the hell have we done?” Bark’s ears perked up as he heard Nack mumbling to himself. "Everything we've been through, everything we've worked for, everything gone down the fuckin' drain..." Bean took notice a few moments later as Nack’s voice grew a tiny bit louder. Neither made a move to look at him, lest he realize they could actually hear him. "So, this is the good life, huh?" The two could hear his voice crack, just a little. He suddenly turned to look at his companions. "We got nothing. We get nothing. We're gonna fucking die out here, alone, and someone's gonna find our skeletons and steal the Queen, and no one's gonna know who the fuck we are, and no one's gonna fucking care! We're _fucked! It's all **fucked!** " _He buried his head in his gloved paws and let his hat slide off the back of his head, into the back of his sidecar.

“...At least we still have each other?” Bean said with a shrug. Nack just sighed and sank deeper into his seat and his thoughts. Bark remained silent but placed a surprisingly gentle hand on the jerboa’s shoulder. They carried on through the open plains near the Mystic Ruins, the silence only interrupted by the humming of the engine and the occasional yawn.

 

Then, Nack's communicator rang. His heart skipped a beat, and he flicked it open without hesitation. "...'Ello? You've reached the Hooligan House of Unrecognized Talent, how can I help you?"

He flinched as a deep, modulated voice began to speak.  _"You know who this is. Report to Egg Empire Oil Refinery 1822, unofficial title: 'Oil Ocean' for your assignment. Payment: 10,000 Rings each, 1000 up front, the rest when it is done. Estimated job completion time: two days, maximum. Do not call this number back. Oil Ocean. Be there."_ With that, the call ended.

The Hooligans sat in total silence for what felt like hours. Ten _thousand_ rings _. **Each**. _It sounded too good to be true, but the doctor was certainly rich enough to shell out that many on a whim. Who could guess how many refineries the guy had, pumping out oil and ranking in cash? At least 1,822 of them judging by their meeting site's title.

"...what do you think he wants us to do?" Bean asked, voice shaking with both excitement and fear; excitement over the money and fear over what they might have to do to get it. "That much for too days of work? That's the kind of rings you shell out when you want someone to kill a building full of babies or something."

Bark nodded his head furiously. While he remained as silent as ever, Nack still got the gist of it. The payday was great but there was definitely more to it than the Egg Rep was letting on.

"I know," The jerboa said, sighing as he did. "But we need those rings. Do you have any idea how long we could live off that with a little thought put into it?" His companions shook their heads. "The rest of our sorry-ass lives, if we're not dumbasses and don't blow it all on poker and hookers,  _Bean."_

"They're called  _escorts,_ Nack!"

"What's the difference?"

"The difference being that one's a job where the lady makes you look rich and successful by hanging off you all night, and the other is probably an undercover cop who you're gonna have to kill with a grenade in the bathtub and hide under the hotel mat-!"

"Y'know what? I'm sorry I asked." He facepalmed. "But the point is, the rings are too good to pass up. We ask what the hell he wants us to do, at least. If it's too fucked up for us, we bail. Agreed?" They both hummed in agreement, and Bark turned the Queen around.

* * *

"10,000 rings each... to find a shiny red rock? You've gotta be kiddin' me."

 _"I can assure you, Mr. Fang, that my humor suppression pump is operating at full capacity. I am **dead** serious," _said Metal Sonic, leaning forward on the desk with his one arm. His stump was held to the side, being examined by the orange fox doll at his side. The red lights flickering in front of it seemed like it was taking measurements of some kind.  _"Bring us the gem, you get paid. That is the deal."_

"So what is it?"

_"I have explained the deal."_

"No, I mean what's the gem for? Last time you sent me and my crew on a wild goose chase like this, we found a Chaos Emerald and got our asses handed to us by a hedgehog that runs faster than bullets."

_"That won't be a problem this time. This is not a Chaos Emerald, nor any other power source; and I can assure you, Sonic and his friends will not be looking for it."_

"That's a relief. So, where is it?"

_"We suspect that it is buried in debris somewhere in downtown Mobotropolis, most likely wherever my other arm is. We can provide you a tracking device to my missing piece."_

"If you guys know exactly where it is, why are you paying us to do it?" Bean injected himself into the conversation. "I mean, I love rings and dirty work as much as the next guy, but this seems a little... vanilla for the paycheck. No murder? No arson? Nothing?"

_"I are having you do this because I am under orders to remain undercover for the time being. My master's next plan relies on both the acquisition of this gem and our remaining out of sight of the general populace. And, we have a rather large expendable budget. You require rings. Introducing you to the equation will solve all problems. Do you accept these terms?"_

Nack hardly had to consider it.

"We're in. Tell us where to start looking."

 _"Excellent. My companion will take you to your destination."_ Metal Sonic paused for a moment before continuing.  _"And this is optional, but I would appreciate it if you could bring my arm back as well. I would like to use it to strangle the insolent **child** who severed it from me."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CeriphKri here,
> 
> I really don't have anything to say here. Uh, the song that was playing in the diner is "The Good Life" by Weezer, but that's not that important. Not really much to say about this chapter. It exists.
> 
> Would still like to hear your opinions on chapter sizes, so leave a comment if it's not too much trouble!
> 
> I am, have been, and will most likely continue to be,  
> CeriphKri


	5. Two Legs Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be honest with you, I have written and posted these in a very strange and confusing order. Don't worry about it, I have a proper chapter map now so I won't have this problem again.

**_Meanwhile, on the same day that the Hooligans were moping around and blowing up cafes for shits and giggles, one day before Bokkun was active again, and around a week and a half after the initial attack on Mobotropolis… (Confused yet?)_ **

 

Evan wasn't having a good time. The hospital room was cramped, kind of eerie, and smelled a lot like cleaning supplies. All it really had in it was a rolling table and a rollaway bed beneath a flickering, poorly hung fluorescent light. Well, that and his red jacket hanging from the doorknob. It made sense, given that it was clearly just a repurposed supply closet, cleared out to make room for more people after the influx of injured civilians.

“Well, fuck.” Evan said as the canine doctor showed him the x-rays of his legs. While his earlier assumption that every single bone in his legs was shattered in the fall was wrong, it wasn't far off. Both his tarsus, his left and right tibia, his left femur, the bottom half of his left kneecap, every toe on his right foot and his back talon on his left had all been shattered like glass.

The only thing that kept him from screaming his head off until his lungs collapsed when he fell was a combination of shock and adrenaline, which wore off pretty quickly after Tyler had driven him back to their apartment. When the adrenaline wore off, he spent half a day screaming in agony while Tyler stuffed him full of “pain medication” that some creepy dude in the alley was selling. It took another half a day for the nearest hospital to reopen after having a Suicide Buzz Bomber land directly on top of their receptionist before detonating. Even after getting him into the hospital, there was still a backlog of people who needed meds, and tests, and rooms, meaning they had to wait quite a while to get x-rays of the damage.

At least the hospital gave him pain meds that didn't make him feel like he was flying inside a rainbow frog’s asshole.

Now, Evan was no stranger to pain. Ask anyone who knew him and they could tell you two things about the man: he was a bit of a daredevil, and he was _clumsy_ as Hell _._ Tyler could tell you first hand stories of how Evan chipped his beak bending over to tie his shoes, or the many times he absentmindedly walked into traffic and was struck by (luckily) slow moving cars, or that time he got too excited about something and took a nosedive off the roof of a three story building, or a million other stories of stupid, painful things he's done over the many years they'd been friends. Long story short, Evan broke _a lot_ of bones. You'd be hard pressed to find a bone in his body that hasn't been in two jagged pieces at some point.

That being said, having experience with broken bones won’t make breaking them suck any less.

“Holy shit, dude. I, uh, think you've got a new record there.” The pig said as he awkwardly leaned over Evan's shoulder, his white motorcycle helmet gleaming beneath the fluorescent ceiling light. He began silently mouthing numbers as he studied the image.

The doctor sighed and straightened her glasses. “Yes, the number of fractures is honestly quite-!” She suddenly stopped, her high voice suddenly catching in her throat. With a small cough, she continues. “I do not believe ‘impressive' is the right word, but it is all that comes to mind. It’s rather morbidly fascinating.”

“Even if we're just going by bones broken instead of individual breaks, this is _still_ a record fail for you.” Tyler added as he finished tallying up his fractures.

Evan frowned and yanked the x-rays from the doctor's hands. “I have thin bones, okay?” His voice took a defensive tone as he shuffled his shoulders, trying to get back to a comfortable position. “How long ‘till I'm up again?”

“That depends entirely on your treatment.” She reached into her coat pocket and handed him a pamphlet. It was a bright blue color with a cartoon image of a broken femur and a familiar blue hedgehog flashing a thumbs up. On the back was a large logo of two orange tails over a white gear. On the front, in big white letters on a red banner, it said _“Running On Empty: Treatment Plans For Major Leg Injuries.”_

“Hell no to the treatments, I don’t have that big bucks hero money for surgeries. I'll take the usual cast and pills, please.” He handed, more like shoved, the pamphlet back to her.

“Well, you may still want to take a look. There's this new treatment out from Miles Electric you may not have heard of. Super cheap because it's still in development. Word down the pipeline says that it gets people like you on their feet in less than a day. _And_ it's supposed to keep you out of the hospital in the future. I haven't seen it, just read about it.” She handed the pamphlet back. “It’s all on the last page there. Might be worth a look?” She shrugged.

Evan raised an eyebrow. A treatment that could heal broken bones in a day? What kind of black magic was the world’s leading technology company up to?

“It can't be done here. Something about wanting to keep the tech in the right hands. Not sure that fox is the most _stable_ person to have it after that fiasco down in the dustbowl last year, but at least he’s using it for something good.”

“Hey, c'mon, the dustbowl thing totally wasn't his fault.”

Tyler scratched the back of his neck. “Uh, it kinda was, wasn't it? Like, if he wasn't messing around with shit he didn't understand in the first place, nothing would've happened, and there would still be a- ow!” His criticism was met with the owl’s surprisingly strong punch to his gut, his zebra print t-shirt offering minimal protection from the blow. “Jeez, man, I'm just saying what I saw on the news!”

“Who's side are you on?!”

“I ain't on nobody's side because my ass was at home watching TV when shit went wrong, just like your dumb ass was sitting on the couch next to me. Now shut the hell up and give me that pamphlet.” Tyler grabbed it from his hands and flipped through to the last page. _“Miles Electric Limb Reinforcement Therapy,”_ he read aloud. _“uses cutting edge surgical technology to remove damaged bone and tissue, replacing it with specialized materials designed to not only have you back on your feet in hours, but keep you on them for the rest of your life. Call through any communicator, Comms Address: MILES-ELECTRIC-BONES. Plans starting at only twenty rings a month.”_ He stopped and reread the last few lines. “Twenty rings? What the hell, I could find a month's payment in our couch cushions. Why is it so cheap? Are they gonna steal his kidneys or something?”

“Why are you both acting like it's the Eggman Empire and not _Miles Freakin’ Electric?_ I'm sure it's safe, I met the guy myself! He seemed really cool!”

The doctor seemed to ignore him. “It's experimental. Plus, I’m sure it's partially to build some good will with potential customers after all the controversy.” The doctor said. Then, she leaned in closer and spoke in a whisper. “Honestly, I'd stick with the cast and pills like you said. The Electric company is paying us a bunch of rings to recommend it to people with bone damage. Sent us all the pamphlets and everything. I trust it about as far as you can run right now.”

“I think I'll look into the Limb Enhancement Electric thing first.”

The doctor just sighed and nodded her head. “Then I can’t help you anymore here. You're free to leave whenever you want, and there's a wheelchair in the hall for you. Call Electric. Good luck.” She slinked out of the room and into the hall, leaving the two roommates alone.

“So, you wanna be Robo-Cop, huh?” Tyler said as he sat down on the end of the bed. Evan freaked out for a moment as he sat dangerously close to his legs. The pig snorted in his usual laugh. “Some kind of Robowl. You gonna save the world, get the girl, finally pay rent for once in your life?”

Evan laughed too, his beak upturned into a crooked smile. “I don’t think it's gonna _actually_ be robotic legs. It’ll just be some internal braces or something.” He ran a hand through his feathers, stroking the plumage that made up his ‘eyebrows.’ “It would be pretty awesome, though. But not the reason why I want to do it! I just don't want to be bedridden and make you take care of me for months.”

“Shut the fuck up, we both know you heard ‘Enhancement’ and wanted to be Inspector fuckin’ Gadget.” Now alone, the pig saw no need to censor himself. “And you don't make me take care of you, I'll leave yo bitch ass to starve any time I want. I'm a free pig. This bacon ain’t tied down to no one. Now come on, we've got a call to make.”

 

* * *

The room was grey, and long, and very empty aside from the desk, the lights lining the ceiling, and the-

“Holy shit. It’s actually robotic legs. Holy _shit_ , that’s _awesome!”_ Evan was undoubtedly fangirling over the tech demo behind the glass. To think, he was going to _have those_ in a few hours. All the stunts, all the ladies he could impress, all the extreme sports he could cheat at!

“Woah,” was all Tyler said as he spaced, envisioning himself as some kind of Robopig or Porkinator.

The call to Miles Electric had been surprisingly short, yet highly informative. It amounted to a rather confused but pleasantly surprised mouse girl on the other end asking if he was injured (yes), if he had a criminal record (she confirmed that parking tickets didn't count), and if he was willing to wear a monitoring system for a while to make sure that nothing got messed up (to which he agreed). Then, when he was done answering questions, she gave them an address to head to for a demonstration and, if all went well, a short surgery.

He was expecting the awkward, yellow mouse girl to show off different braces, different types of metal, pictures of happy patients. He was _not_ expecting a super cute, purple swallow girl to come out riding on the back of a crash test dummy with completely robotic bird legs, with bulging metal muscles and a beautiful chrome finish.

“Hey, you.” She said as she slid down off the back of her iron steed. “I guess you're here for the new legs, huh?”

Evan nodded. Tyler continued staring in total awe at the legs.

“The name's Wave. You're… Evan Fong. Hey, that’s- yeah, I heard about you from my boss. Said he met you for a few minutes.” She chuckled, a weird, song-like sound. “I feel bad for you, that guy's kind of a jackass.”

“He mentioned me?” Evan’s eyebrow feathers narrowed. “Wait, Wave- from the Extreme Gear tournaments? Aren't you and him supposed to be rivals or something?”

She laughed and grabbed at a small watch around her wrist. Her fingers tapped a series of buttons. The glass between them split open, allowing her to step through and take a seat at the desk beside him. “Who said rivals can't work together sometimes? I had ideas he wanted, he had some ideas I wanted to steal, it all works out in the end.” She smiled deviously. “Plus, I'm getting half the profit for these babies when we hit the market, _and_ a Miles Electric sponsorship.”

“So you helped design these things?” Tyler said from across the room. Somehow, while Evan and Wave were talking, Tyler seemed to magically teleport from behind Evan over to the legs where he was now examining the calf way closer than he needed to.

“Yep, they're at least 75% Wave tech. I'm the girl who makes lame men walk, and don't you forget it.” She said, her voice carrying an air of superiority to those around her, like she was on a higher plane of existence than them.

“What do they do that's so special? I mean, robot legs alone are cool and all, but robots already exist and a lot of them already have legs. Why not just cut off theirs and stick it on him?” Tyler said.

Wave’s eye twitched, but she just smiled and took a deep breath. “Well, the legs operate using a neural link through the existing nerves of the user, making it immediately intuitive to operate compared to standard prosthetics, it also contains over twenty-seven thousand individual nerve stimulators to provide a sense of feeling, as well as a variety of other neat features such as-” She stopped and took another deep breath. “Extreme Gear locking mechanisms, prehensile talons, flashlights, reflexive countermeasures, precision strike mode, riding stabilizers, cupholders-!”

“Okay, we get it, they're really, _really_ cool,” Evan finally stopped her as she came closer and closer to sounding like an auctioneer on speed. “What does most of that mean?”

“And could you go a little slower this time? You talk like you're afraid we're gonna cut to commercial break or something.” Tyler added.

“Well, you'll be able to extend the toes up to three times their normal length and control them easier than your old, fleshy toes. You can also lock them so you don't fall off of things, and you can shoot bursts of air out of your calves to stabilize your Extreme Gear board.”

“I feel like these were made less to help people like him and more so that you could cheat at Extreme sports.” Tyler crossed his arms and leaned on the legs. In response, they suddenly kicked him in the shin.

“Hey, she doesn't have a pair, so I don't think that's a fair assumption for you to make.” Evan gestured to her lithe, perfectly natural legs.

“I guess you haven't been close enough to a real woman’s legs to tell but,” She said as she reached down and pressed a button on her thigh. Her calve split open to reveal wires and hydraulics inside. “They aren't as natural as they look. I appreciate the compliment, though. I tried my best to make them look as normal as possible. Can't have the refs figuring out my little secret!” Her legs closed again, the evidence that there was ever anything strange about them hidden from sight.

Evan cringed. “I’ll never be able to look at a pair of legs the same way again.”

“Fuckin’ perv, lookin’ at women’s legs and tryna tell if they're natural.” Tyler joked as he wandered the room aimlessly, awkwardly trying to find a place to sit down before settling on the desk between the two birds. As he sat, he looked down at Wave’s mechanical legs. “I mean, I ain't a bird, but those _are_ some good lookin’ chicken legs.”

A few moments passed before Wave fully processed his words. “... _Please_ , for the love of Chaos, don't say it like that.”

Evan crossed his arms and frowned. Tyler had a tendency to say things without considering the implications. “Seriously man, you're gonna make a chicken legs joke in a room full of birds?”

“What's wrong with that?”

“That's racist as shit, man.”

“How's it any different from you callin’ me porkchop?”

Wave cleared her throat to get their attention. “Could we get back to business here? I have an appointment later and I need you to sign these papers before we begin the Robotizication. Just a few medical items we have to get through first, you understand. Waivers, end user license agreements, that sort of thing.” She shrugged. “Miles likes to make sure that if the air tanks in your legs explode- _which they won't, because I built them-_ you can't blame it on us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CeriphKri here,
> 
> Hi. I'm not dead. Surprised? I am!
> 
> So I had a lot of trouble both with writing and IRL stuff, but I have it all worked out now and "regular" posting (once every week or two?) should now continue.
> 
> This chapter isn't very long, because I don't think it needs to be. I just wanted to get something out now that I have time to myself again. Next chapter will be longer and will probably be a lot more interesting.
> 
> Also a thing to note, this chapter may be the last we see of Evan's story for awhile... In this fic. There may be a partner fic running alongside Phantom, expanding the "Phantom-Verse" and filling in some more blanks along the way. This is so that, if you're not interested in anything other than Miles' personal journey, you wouldn't HAVE to read it to understand the main storyline. Leave a comment and tell me if you would like this (and any future) sidestories separated into their own fics or if you would just like the chapters marked with their respective story in the Index.
> 
> I am, have been, and will most likely continue to be,
> 
> CeriphKri


	6. Enter: Rouge

"So why exactly are you still here?" The question hung in the air for a few moments as Miles fiddled with his hand, his gaze locked firmly on Bokkun. Bokkun raised an optic to meet him. "You don't  _ have _ to stay here to help or anything. We're not exactly friends, and we never have been. So why are you still here?

"...Because I don't have my jetpack." The little robot answered simply before turning back to his new communicator.

"It's by the door." The fox pointed with his tail. "I fixed it first. Figured if fixing you didn't work out, Knuckles would probably like it. His birthday is coming up in a few months."

"Oh." Bokkun tapped his fingers together. "Not even dead on the table and you were already divvying up my loot? Freakin' animals…"

Miles sighed and grabbed a small cube that Bokkun didn't recognize from the table. "You  _ were  _ dead. Very dead. And very lucky that the most important bits of you only got a little charred." As he spoke, his metal fingers shifted the cube in his hand, delicately pressing the small buttons and levers that covered its surface. "I don't think I ever properly apologized to you."

"For what?"

"Killing you." His button mashing grew faster and more forceful, the plastic clicking from the pressure as his fingers impacted its surface. "It was my fault that you got blown up. I hope the new body made up for it, but if you aren't willing to forgive me, I understand comple-!" He yelped as Bokkun's communicator came flying at his forehead. He awkwardly deflected it with his flesh hand to keep from breaking it.

"Idiot. I didn't blame you in the first place. Eggman is the one who pushed the button." He huffed and crossed his arms. He couldn't help but stare at the way the synthetic skin of his arm stretched and pulled taut as he crossed them. "You put a lot of effort into building me a new body. How long did it take you to build me?"

Miles glanced to the ceiling in a half second of calculation before coming to the realization that Bokkun probably didn't care about the exact timeframe down to the minute. "A week-ish?"

"You built  _ this _ in a week?" Bokkun stared at him with wide optics. It took the doctor  _ weeks _ to design a functional Badnik of this level, yet a teenaged fox could design  _ and _ build one in a week?

"More like a week and a half, if I'm honest. Probably could have finished sooner if I didn't spend a day dying in my bathroom." He shuddered remembering the feeling of chunks forcing their way up his throat and the taste of stomach acid. "Speaking of, if you're gonna hang around here, remind me to buy some more sandwich meats. I'm out of everything."

**_"I HAVE RETURNED WITH AN ALLY!"_** Omega announced as he kicked the front door in, a white bat held bridal style in his arms. Bokkun and Miles hardly responded, having grown accustomed to Omega’s dramatic entrances after him having done literally the exact same thing the last thirty six times he went outside to see if Rouge was there yet.

“Welcome back, and hello to you, Rouge.” Miles spun in his chair with an arm raised in a pathetic excuse for a wave.

"Hello, darling!" Rouge reclined across his mechanical muscles and gave a small wave to Miles before her eyes settled on Bokkun. "Wait, wha- Bokkun?!" Bokkun yelped as she moved with unexpected speed and perched herself on the back of his sofa. She smiled brightly at him as though he were an old friend as her ever calm, seductive persona faded. "Bokkie! It's so good to see you!" Realizing how high pitched her voice had become, she cleared her throat and narrowed her eyes to their usual half closed state. "And where have you been all this time, Mr. Bokkun?" She slid onto the couch beside him. Her eyes danced over his new form, taking in every detail. She stroked a gloved hand across his armored chest and batted her eyes. "I see someone's been hitting the mechanic…" Yep, sexy, seductress Rouge was back in the house.

"Uh, I was asleep. Locked in a warehouse for awhile. Then dead. Now I'm here." Rouge withdrew her hand and stared blankly into his golden optics. "Don't ask. It's a long story, Tails will explain it later." 

"...I am sorry I asked." She said as she turned away from him and toward Miles. Her pink heels quickly took their place on his coffee table with Cosmo's flower between them. "So, brainiac, what's got Big Red in such a frenzy?"

Bokkun raised his hand and his voice. "We're going to raise the dead!" He stood up on the couch and wiggled his fingers. Were this a children’s television show, this would be around the part where scary music would play and lightning would strike outside, and maybe there would be a deep, maniacal laugh track playing in the background. This is not a children’s television show, so instead he just looked a bit daft and made everyone present uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry,  _ what? _ "

Miles slammed his metal palm into his forehead, “Fu-damn this hand!”, recoiling at the metal on skin contact. "There were so many ways you could have phrased it, and you pick  _ that?" _

"What is he talking about? Raising the dead… You're not trying the Dustbowl thing again, are you? Miles, we all-" Rouge stepped toward Miles and put a hand on his shoulder, only to have it batted away.

"I  _ told you _ , that wasn't my fault! If everyone would just  _ leave me the hell alone while I’m- _ " He paused, his sudden outburst deflating like a popped balloon, and ran a hand through the tufts of hair on his head. "Okay,  _ no, _ it has nothing to do with  _ that. _ That project is done, it's cancelled, that division of the company was shut down, and I burnt everything involved in it." He glanced at Bokkun, who was now staring at him with a look of well deserved confusion. "Not important right now! I have a plan to save Cosmo.” Rouge raised an eyebrow. “Part of a plan. One percent of a plan."

"Are you going to get around to explaining that plan?" Rouge asked, ears held back in fear of his answer.

"Yeah, right right right! Okay, look at this plant." Miles seized the flower pot and practically shoved it into Rouge's face. She pulled her head back, but noticed the lipstick smudge left on the side of the pot.

"Oooookay? I assume this is going somewhere?" Rouge said as she crossed her arms. Wordlessly, Miles lifted his mechanical hand to the base of the bud and ripped the flower from its stem. "...Not where I expected this to go but okay."

"Omega, Emerald."

**"I don't have it."**

"What do you mean, you don't have it?" The fox scowled. With the grace of a reaper, he practically floated around the coffee table to stand directly in front of Omega, his angry blue eyes staring up into the robot's reds.

**"I am not currently in possession of a Chaos Emerald."**

"Then where the hell is it?!" Rouge couldn't help but think his eyes flashed red and purple as he snapped. Perhaps just a trick of the light, Omega's colors reflecting in his baby blues?

**"I handed it to you approximately half an hour ago."**

They both stood in stillness and silence for a few moments before Miles sheepishly checked his belt pocket for it. Lo and behold, the Chaos Emerald was there, shining like a light bulb.

Miles cleared his throat. "...Sorry, Omega."

**"Apology accepted. Get on with it."**

“Right, okay.  _ Witness greatness!”  _ With theatrics worthy of a ringmaster, his gestures exaggerated and presented with an overly dramatic flair, he held the gemstone to the side of the flower pot.

Rouge stared in silence for around twelve seconds before looking up at him. “Uh, kid? I don’t think anything’s happening.”

She was shushed by a raise of Bokkun’s gloved hand. “Give it a minute, I didn’t get it at first either.”

She sighed. It wasn’t like suspending judgement for another minute would kill her. Still, she couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable with Miles, Bokkun, and Omega staring her down like a pack of wolves, expecting some sort of response that she couldn’t give them.

It turned out she  _ could  _ give them the appropriate response- shock, primarily- as after thirty seconds, the plant miraculously (could it even be considered a miracle at this point? Miles and Bokkun cut and chaos’d the plant over fifteen times before Omega even brought Rouge in, so surely it was expected behavior by now?) regrew itself from the severed stem, the Chaos Energy freely flowing through it.

Rouge had no words. Miles had her covered. “I know, right? It seemed crazy to me too, but we both just saw that happen!” 

“Yeah,” she finally said, finding her voice again. “That just happened. Okay, wow, I’m not entirely sure how to respond to that.”

“No need, just listen. Planning board!” Miles stuck his metal hand in the air, pointing a finger to the sky. He held the position for around ten seconds before his shoulder slumped. Nothing else seemed to happen. “... _ planning board!”  _ He crossed his arms, holding for only a second before looking toward the workshop. “Why is she always breaking down? Give me a minute.” He marched out of the room and into the garage. What followed was a cacophony of metal against metal, grunts of pain and anger, and the sound of a motor cranking as the lights in the living room flickered. Miles walked back in after around five minutes of these sounds, flexing a metallic hand covered in oil and what hopefully wasn’t his (or anyone else's) blood. “Planning board,” he yelled again while cracking his neck. “I swear, if she doesn’t work this time, I’m going to shoot her and start over.”

On cue, a metal planning board with short, spider-like legs slowly crawled out of the workshop and into the living room. A modified Robotnik security camera was attached to the side as an optic, casting a dim red light over the room. ‘Her’ motions reminded Rouge somewhat of a hermit crab as ‘she’ dragged ‘herself’ across the carpeted floor. It was almost a pitiful sight.

“She’s a work in progress, you understand.” Miles shrugged as ‘she’ finally arrived at ‘her’ destination in front of the couch. “Rouge, this is…” He stopped, a look of sudden realization spreading over his previously annoyed features. “I just realized she doesn’t actually have a name. Whoops. Uh, we will call her Planning Board! PB, for short.”

Rouge smiled. “She’s kinda cute, in a weird, killer robot kinda way.”

Bokkun frowned at the fox. “That is a  _ horrible  _ name.”

“Why?”

“Because you just named her what she is.” 

“So?”

“Is your name Fox the Fox? Is my name ‘Messenger Robo'?”

“Good point, but I don’t see you coming up with anything better.”

Bokkun held a hand to his chin in thought. “Plan-chan?”

**“Making good use of that Japanese translation pack, I see.”** Omega spoke, somehow expressing sarcasm through a monotone voice filter.

“No one asked you, bolt bag.”

**“You’re one to talk.”**

Miles interrupted them by knocking against the robot's surface with his metal claw. “Focus, robots. Until someone comes up with  _ anything else, _ Plan-chan it is!” With everyone’s attention now on him and Plan-chan, he pointed to the pieces of paper hung to the robot’s surface with magnets. “This is documentation written by Sonic in regards to something called ‘Chaos Regeneration’, during an incident that, to my knowledge, didn’t actually happen in this timeline.”

“What do you mean, in this timeline?” asked Rouge.

“It’s complicated. Time travel stuff. Not really my expertise. Not the point. The point is that according to this, the Chaos Emeralds  _ are _ capable of healing those who are injured and, more importantly,” he paused for ‘dramatic effect’, “raising the dead. Good news: as you can see by this plant, a single Chaos Emerald seems to have some minor regenerative abilities! Bad news: a single rose does not a Cosmo make, and this little miracle worker does not seem to be doing much of anything else.”

Rouge nodded her head. “I get it. So you think that if one Chaos Emerald can fix the flower, more of them could fix a whole Cosmo?” 

Plan-chan chattered in agreement, a sound like metal crickets in a soda can.

“Yep. One problem with that-!”

Rouge cut him off. “We don’t have the other six Emeralds.”

“Two for two, Bats. Anyway,” Miles turned back to the board but paused, a strange look spreading over his face. “...when have I ever called you ‘Bats’? Ugh, I sound like a comic book villain. So, we need to get the other Emeralds. Even if this plan is a bust and adding more Emeralds does nothing of value- which is definitely a possibility, as we are basing this on  _ no science  _ whatsoever because this is actually magic and we have a very, very poor understanding of how any of this actually works- we probably should get the Emeralds in case we ever need them in the future. They would have been helpful during the Infinite Incident, we really could have used them during the Lost Hex Incident, and I’m sure we’re gonna need them again in the future. Any questions?”

Rouge raised her hand. “Is there a particular reason why you’re explaining this to me specifically? I mean, wouldn’t someone like Sonic or Shadow be better to start with? Maybe even your… what is Cream to you? An apprentice? Your ward?”

“I’m glad you asked! Not the thing about Cream, the other thing.” He turned to her, beaming. “The answer is no, not really. I didn’t really care that it was you.” Rouge tried not to take offense to that as he turned back to the board. “You just showed up first and I wanted to do a test run with someone who isn’t potentially crazy or stupid, so you can help me explain it to everyone else and actually give these completely insane claims some credibility!”

Bokkun narrowed his optics. “Wait, me and Omega were here and we saw it happen. We could have backed you up!”

“I said ‘someone who isn’t potentially crazy or stupid.’ Rouge is the only person in this building who isn’t in one of those two categories.”

Rouge snickered. “Including you, foxy?”

“Yes.” Miles said, no humor evident in his voice. Rouge paled slightly at the bluntness of the response. “I have never claimed to be a  _ stable  _ person, just a smart one. I thought I was crazy when I saw the plant growing itself, so you’re here to prove to  _ me  _ that  _ I’m  _ not crazy. Which, you’re doing a pretty bang-up job of it so far, so just keep doing what you’re doing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CeriphKri here,
> 
> Hi. I'm doing shorter chapters now. 2000ish range because that's where most people I asked on Discord said they prefer it. 
> 
> Been gone for awhile for a variety of reasons, including:
> 
> Having a new door installed in my house  
> Repairing water damage caused by a leaking air condition unit  
> Recovering from Avengers: Endgame  
> Exercise  
> The realization that life is meaningless and death approaches  
> Video Games
> 
> And many more things that you probably don't care about! Whatever, point is, work is being done again. 
> 
> I am, have been, and will most likely continue to be, 
> 
> CeriphKri


End file.
